A Light in the Dark
by books.and.cafffeine
Summary: Emma Potter always knew she was different. So it came as no surprise when she learned she was a witch. But what she wasn't expecting was a world where everyone knew her name and there was danger at every turn. As Emma learns the secrets Hogwarts has to hold, she may even learn some secrets about herself. Fem!Harry
1. Prologue

**Hi guys! So welcome to** ** _A Light in the Dark_** **, my first published fanfic. I've been writing for a while but finally got up the courage to publish one. So this fic this fanfic focuses on Emma Potter, who is my female version of Harry. Everyone else in the story will stay the same, however. I'm really proud of this fic and hope you guys enjoy! All reviews are welcome! Enjoy the story!**

 **A Light in the Dark: Prologue**

Little Emma Potter had never fit in anywhere. She was different in almost every way possible. She looked more like a five-year-old than a ten year old, with her short, skinny frame. Her dark red hair wasn't the usual ginger that most redheads had. This wasn't even including the slim, lightning-shaped scar that marred the right side of her forehead.

And as if that wasn't enough, her parents had died when she was barely one, leaving her an orphan and stranded on the steps of her aunt and uncle's house. They took her in, but all she ever knew from them was hate. Her cousin, Dudley, didn't help matters. He lived to make her life as miserable as possible, terrorizing her with his crew and making sure all of the other kids at school never dared be friends with her.

But what was most different about Emma, the thing that made her know she would never fit in anywhere was the fact that strange things seemed to happen to her. When her maths teacher yelled at her for not doing her equations correctly, Mrs. Norbert's hair changed to a shocking blue, causing an enraged Mrs. Norbert and gaining Emma a letter to bring home to the Dursleys. Then there was the time that Dudley and his gang were chasing her during recess. Emma tried to hide behind a dumpster and ended up melting it, leaving her sitting in a pile of trash. Every time something like this happened, the Dursleys seemed to hate her more and more. They would lock her in her cupboard for days on end.

Then there was the time she was 8. She was outside in the front yard, hiding by a tree and reading a book when Dudley and his friends came out to bug her. When she refused to give them the light of day and instead stood up to walk away, Dudley's friend, Piers Polkiss, pushed her hard and she fell right into oncoming traffic. She stood up as quickly as she could, but before she could get off the road, a car came roaring towards her. She screamed and shut her eyes, but the impact never came. As she opened her eyes, she realized she was floating in the air above the road, letting the cars safely pass beneath her.

On her good days, Emma liked to think she was like Matilda from her favorite book. On the bad days, which were far more common, she felt more like a freak, stranded in a world where she would never belong.

So when her eleventh birthday came and she was whisked away into a crazy world of owls and wands, Emma for the first time felt at home. Like maybe, just maybe, she could belong somewhere.

Ron Weasley could never measure up to his siblings. That had been obvious since day one. Where all of his brothers showed extreme signs of accidental magic, being able to transfigure objects or cause things to explode, Ron's magic was more mute, only allowing him to change the color of his teddy bear when he was 7.

When it came time for his brothers to go to Hogwarts, they all shined. Bill got amazing marks and in no time was the favorite of many. Mrs. Weasley would constantly get letters home from professors raving about Bill and his talent. It was no surprise when he became prefect and eventually, head boy.

Charlie had always been a skilled quidditch player. He shined on the pitch. He was that athlete that everyone envied. He made it as seeker by second year and became quidditch captain by fifth, causing Gryffindor to win the cup six years running.

Percy was always the most uptight. His dreams were big and his head even bigger. He was always talking about becoming Minister of Magic and how he was _so_ smart and _so_ amazing. Of all the siblings, Percy got the best marks. He was the top of his class every year. It was no surprise when he made prefect.

Fred and George were the perfect combinations of all the siblings. They were smart, earning good marks in all of their classes. They were great quidditch players, earning themselves beater spots by second year. And above all else, they were funny. Wherever they went, laughter followed.

Ron, on the other hand, was practically mediocre. He was going to Hogwarts this year, and he just knew that he'd never match up. He wasn't as smart or as funny or as athletic. He had to work for anything he had, and even then he wasn't as good. All he could do was hope that maybe, just maybe, he could be something more than ordinary.

Hermione Granger was never really liked. She had bushy brown hair and oversized teeth, nothing like those pretty blond girls that everyone liked. Her nose was always stuck in a book, leaving her as a sort of outsider. The only time she was around kids her own age was when she was at school, but they all pushed her to the side, only using her if they had questions about homework.

Most of the time, Hermione spent her time playing chess with her dad or reading books with her mum. She was closer to her parents than most kids her age were. Her mum comforted her when the other kids at school bullied her over her smarts or her looks. She held her as she cried and cried until she finally fell asleep.

Her dad was there the next morning, making her laugh and letting her skip school to go on what he liked to call "Spontaneous Adventure Outings" where he would take her to the woods by their house, hike the trails, and let her sit by the waterfall and read a book as he sketched the trees or the birds that flew overhead.

Because of the time she spent with her parents, Hermione had always been mature for her age. The kids at school referred to her as a know-it-all or a grandma, but Hermione liked to think of herself as cultured.

The day that Professor McGonagall came and told her that she was a witch and offered her a spot at a new school, her parents were cautious but Hermione jumped at the opportunity. She would get to start over and maybe, just maybe, she could have friends.

 **I hope you guys liked it! Normally I'll make the chapters around 3,000-4,000 words but as this is only the prologue, it's a little shorter. Anyways, please leave a review and a follow so you can know when new updates come in! Thanks, guys!**


	2. Chapter 1

**A Light in the Dark**

 **Chapter 1: The Long Journey**

 **Disclaimer: All characters and plot line belong to JK Rowling**

Emma Potter dragged her trunk down Platform 9 ¾. She had gotten to Kings Cross only twenty minutes before eleven. She looked like an absolute wreck, with her red hair thrown haphazardly into a bun and her glasses falling off her nose.

She had told herself strictly that she would not ask the Dursleys for anything. Ever since Hagrid had come to get her and whisked her away, they had been increasingly distant, practically ignoring her existence. Emma had taken on the same attitude, spending as much time out of the house as she possibly could.

So Emma took some money from Vernon the night before she was to leave and took the underground, ignoring the confused looks she got from other passengers when they saw her owl cage. The only problem with her plan is that she didn't count in the fact that the underground took much longer than expected. She found herself running to Kings Cross, racing to catch the train. It was just luck that she overheard someone say platform 9 ¾, watching with wide eyes as a brown haired couple ran their child through the seemingly solid brick wall. Emma followed suit, swallowing her fear and running at the wall, which was how she found herself staring at a scarlet train.

Emma wandered towards it aimlessly, passing families of young children and older groups of laughing kids. They all were wearing normal muggle clothing except for a few of the parents who were adorned in multicolored wizard robes. Emma stopped at the first free opening to the train and grabbed hold of her trunk, beginning the process of heaving it onto the edge.

"Need a hand?" came a new voice. Emma turned and was met with two boys who had shocking orange hair, a contrast to Emma's own deep red.

"Who's… asking…" Emma groaned, as she hefted her trunk again, this time dropping it on her toe which shot through with pain.

"Two very handsome men who can see a lady in distress," the other boy said, this one identical to the first.

"I can manage… on my own," Emma breathed out.

"Tell that to your toe," one of the twins said.

"Fine," Emma said, relinquishing hold of her trunk. "You can help."

"Thank you," the first twin said, as he and the other set to heaving the trunk up. "Wait, why are we thanking you, we helped with your trunk?"

"I guess I'm just that special," Emma said, a twinkle in her eye. She lifted Hedwig, her owl, on top of her trunk and climbed up into the train. "See you around." She pushed her hair out of her face as she turned, and the twin's eyes widened with surprise at the sight of her scar. But Emma was gone before they could say anything, oblivious that anything had happened.

She maneuvered her way down the train, pulling her trunk behind her, until she finally found an empty compartment to pile her stuff in.

After storing her trunk, she pulled out her battered copy of Matilda from her pocket and cracked open the well worn spine, beginning to read it for what felt like the thousandth time.

"... It was Emma Potter, I'm telling you!" a voice floated in from outside. Emma's eyes shot up from the book.

"Just because you thought you saw a scar doesn't mean anything," scoffed the other twin.

"Oh and you didn't see it?"

"Maybe I did, but I'm not making assumptions."

The twins were walking towards a large group with matching red hair to theirs.

"Mum- geroff," the youngest boy of the group said. His mum seemed to be coming at him with a piece of cloth, rubbing his nose.

"Aaah, has ickle Ronnie got somefink on his nosie?" one of the twins teased.

"Shut up," the boy, Ron, said.

"Where's Percy?" their mother asked, looking down the platform.

Another red head boy came striding into view, stopping as he got to the group.

"Can't stay long, mother. I'm up front, with the prefects. We've got two compartments to ourselves-"

"Oh, are you a prefect, Percy?" one of the twins said, mock surprise lacing their voice. "You should have said something, we had no idea!"

"Hang on, I think I remember saying something about it," said the other twin. "Once-"

"Or twice-"

"A minute-"

"All summer-"

"Oh shut up," Percy said, his face reddening. Emma couldn't help but laugh. This was how siblings were supposed to act, not the way she and Dudley did.

"How come Percy gets new robes, anyway?" one of the twins said.

"Because he's a prefect!" their mother said, patting Percy's chest fondly. "All right dear, well, have a good term- send me an owl when you get there."

She kissed Percy on the cheek and watched as he flounced away, back towards the front of the train.

"Now, you two," their mum said, turning towards the twins. She had the same look in her eyes that Emma's old teachers used to give her every time they knew she was up to no good. "This year, you behave yourselves. If I get one more owl saying you… you… you've blown up a toilet or something-"

"Blown up a toilet? We've never blown up a toilet!"

"Great idea, mum, thanks!"

"It's not funny. And look after Ron."

"Don't worry, ickle Rooniskins is safe with us."

"Shut up," Ron said yet again. He was almost as tall as both of the twins, but his face betrayed how young he actually was. He looked to be about Emma's age whereas the twins looked to be a few years older.

"Hey, mum, guess what? Guess who we just saw!"

A sinking feeling appeared in Emma's gut. She knew what was coming next.

"Who?"

"George, don't-" one of the twins began.

"Emma Potter!" George said, his voice full of excitement.

She heard a gasp, followed by the youngest, and only girl of the group, exclaiming, "Oh, Mum, can I go on the train and see her, Mum, oh please…"

"No, Ginny. The poor girl isn't something to goggle at like an animal at the zoo." their mother turned back towards George. "Is she really, George? How do you know?"

"We saw her scar," George said, as his twin stood there sullen. "It's really there, like lighting!"

"Poor dear."

"Never mind that, do you think he remembers what You-Know-Who looks like?"

"George!" the other twin said. "Don't you dare!"

"Fred's right. I forbid you to ask her. As though she needs reminding of that on her first day at school."

Emma scoffed at that. Of course she didn't need reminding of her dead parents, but the damage was done.

"I think she heard you," came Fred's voice from outside. She turned back and looked, only to find the entire group staring at her. The little girl's eyes were wide with admiration.

"Merlin, she doesn't look pleased," George said, the tips of his ears red.

Emma scowled at him and sat back in her seat, opening up Matilda again. Soon after, the train began to move slowly. Emma sighed deeply, putting the book down yet again. Her mind was not able to focus on reading today, not with everything going on. She was leaving, finally getting out of the hell hole that was Privet Drive, yet for some reason, there was an awful feeling in Emma's gut that had been there ever since she got to the platform.

"Excuse me," came a voice from the door, jerking Emma out of her thoughts. The boy from the platform, Ron, was standing there, staring at her. "Do you… do you mind if I sit? Everywhere else is full."

"Go ahead," Emma said. Ron sat down lightly in the seat across from her, his blue eyes wide.

They sat quietly for a few moments, Ron looking anywhere except for at her.

"Are you really Emma Potter?" Ron blurted out finally, his eyes flying up to meet her own hazel ones. "It's just- well, Fred and George are known to lie all the time and-"

"Hey Ron," came yet another voice from the doorway. Fred and George were standing there, matching grins on their faces. "We're headed down to the middle of the train."

"Lee Jordan's got a giant tarantula," Fred said, excitement all over his face.

"Yeah… alright…" Ron muttered.

"Emma, I don't think we ever introduced ourselves," George said. "George Weasley, at your service."

"Like to talk about people behind their backs, do you George?" Emma said, raising an eyebrow. Ron tried to mask a chuckle for a cough and failed miserably.

"Well… I…" George began, the tops of his ears red.

"Rough break, mate," Fred said. "Oh, and I'm Fred Weasley, for the record." He said with a smirk, pretending to tip an imaginary hat towards her.

"Mmhm. Well, have fun with your spider," Emma said, turning back towards Ron. A minute later, the compartment door slid shut yet again.

"I don't think anyone but mum has talked to them like that," Ron chortled.

"I don't like when people talk about me when they think I'm not listening," Emma said.

"Does anybody like that?" Ron asked. "But… I mean… you're probably used to it, right? What with being famous and all."

"I didn't even know I was famous until a few weeks ago," Emma said. "So trust me, I'm not used to it."

"So… it's true then. You are Emma Potter."

"Before you ask, no, I don't remember anything about that night. I always thought that… well, I thought my parents died in a car crash, but that turned out to be a lie, didn't it."

Silence fell around them, and the two went back to avoiding eye contact yet again.

"I wasn't, you know," Ron said finally. "Going to ask about it, I mean. It's probably not something you want to talk about right now."

Emma nodded. "Are they always like that? Fred and George?"

"Well, Fred's normally a bit worse than he was, but yeah, pretty much." Silence elapsed again, causing Emma to fidget in her seat.

"Are all your family wizards?" Emma asked, trying yet again to turn the conversation away from her.

"Well, yeah, I think so. Mum's got a second cousin whos an accountant, I think, but I've never met him."

"So you must know a lot of magic already," Emma said.

"Well, not really. We're not allowed to practice magic, you see. And I've never showed a lot of accidental magic like my brothers." Ron shifted in his seat, but the uncomfortable gleam in his eyes had gone. "I heard you went to live with muggles. What are they like?"

"Horrible," Emma said blatantly. "Well, not all of them, I guess, but my aunt, uncle, and cousin are. One time, my cousin's friend tried to push me into a car, and my aunt and uncle blamed me for making him angry."

"That sounds awful!" Ron exclaimed.

"I learned to live with it. But, I do wish I had three wizard brothers instead."

"Five," Ron said. He adopted a gloomy look, which surprised Emma. "I'm the sixth in my family to go to Hogwarts. All of them were amazing… are amazing… and now I'm here, with no way to match up."

"That sounds so stupid," Emma said. "How can you know you won't match up before you even try?"

"Because I've never matched up before," Ron grumbled.

"Well, that's just going to have to change, isn't it. You just watch. We're going to become the best wizards Hogwarts has ever seen." Emma said it with such finality in her voice, as if it were just an accepted fact, that Ron didn't object. Instead, he changed the subject.

"What are you reading?"

"Matilda," Emma answered, holding out the books to him. "It's been my favorite since I was little and realized I could do some of the things Matilda did in this book. Of course, back then I didn't think it was because I was a witch." Ron passed the book back to her, and Emma placed it lightly next to her. "This copy was actually my mums. I found it in the attic of my aunt and uncle's house when I was going through it after I found out I was a witch. I took a couple of her things, and some of my dad's too. I always liked old things."

"All I have are old things," Ron confessed. "I have Bill's old robes, Charlie's old wand, and Percy's old rat. Percy got an owl from my dad when he became prefect, but they couldn't aff- I mean, I got Scabbers instead."

The top of Ron's ears were bright red. He conveniently began to look anywhere but at her.

"I never had any money before I learned I was a witch," Emma said, leaning back in her seat. "I used to steal money from my uncle in small amounts so I would never get caught. But it was never enough to buy things I really needed. So I got used to old things and hand me downs. I never once got a proper present for my birthday or for Christmas. But despite all that, I turned out ok. And just because you don't have fancy robe or an owl doesn't mean you're any less."

This seemed to cheer Ron up immensely. The conversation soon turned to lighter topics as Ron began to explain to Emma what it was like growing up as a wizard and all the things he knew about the world she was now in.

He had just started to explain how owling a person worked when there was a rattling noise outside and a dimpled old lady slid open the compartment door.

"Anything off the trolly, dears?" she asked. In front of her was a cart full of various candies and sweets. Emma, who had completely missed breakfast in order to get out of the house as quickly as possible, felt her stomach grumble.

Ron held up a crumpled package and mumbled something about having brought sandwiches.

"Well," Emma said, standing up and grabbing the small bag of coins she kept on herself, "I, for one, am starved. Alas, I have completely no idea what any of this candy is. If only I had some amazing, magical friend in dire need of some candy himself who would be able to help me…" Ron looked extremely confused at this statement. "I mean you, you dolt!"

Laughing, the two first years searched through the cart, Ron adding in advice as Emma looked at the candy.

"No, don't get that!" "Oh that's ghastly!" "Oooh! Those are my favorites, get lots of those!"

Five minutes later, after Emma convinced Ron to let her get a little of everything ("Well just because you don't like them doesn't mean they're bad, Ron!"), the two collapsed back into the compartment, ladened down with sweets.

"Ok, what first?" Emma asked, considering a box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavored Beans.

"Chocolate frogs, definitely," Ron said, passing her a blue box as he ripped open his own.

Emma took out the piece of chocolate shaped like a frog and bit into it, letting the flavor melt in her mouth.

"The best part's the card," Ron said, looking at his own. "Oh, I got Morgana again. I have like five of her. What's yours?"

Emma pulled out her own card, staring at the wizard on the front. Merlin was written in large, red letters across the front. Emma turned it around and read the small description.

Born sometime during the Medieval Era, not much is

known of Merlin's past. He was a member of King

Arthur's court and is arguably one of the greatest

wizards to live. He is most well known as being the

wizard to create the Order of Merlin, an organization

to promote Muggle rights. He was also skilled at charms.

"I got Merlin," Emma said, holding up the card.

"Bloody hell!" Ron said, staring at it. "You got Merlin! He's the rarest of them all! I have none in my collection!"

"Here," Emma said, handing it to him, "have it."

"Are you serious!" Ron said, taking it in his hand like it was a holy object. "You may have just become my favorite person."

"My master plan worked," Emma teased.

As the countryside flew past the window, Emma and Ron ate their way through the mountain of sweets they had, laughing the whole way.

There was a knock at the door of their compartment, and a boy with a round, tear streaked face pulled it open.

"Sorry," the boy choked out, obviously holding back tears, "but have any of you seen a toad?"

Both Emma and Ron shook their heads, causing the boy to wail.

"I've lost him!" the boy said.

"Don't worry," Emma assured him. "He can't have gone far on the train. Why don't you check with one of the older students. They may be able to help with a spell."

The boy nodded his head and left, pulling the compartment out behind him.

"Don't know why he's so broken up," Ron said. "If I brought a toad to school, I'd lose it as soon as possible. Not that I'm one to talk, seeing as I brought Scabbers."

Emma looked down towards the rat that was currently sleeping in a pile of candies. He looked like he might have died, but Emma was afraid to ask.

Luckily, she didn't need to. "He might've died and you wouldn't have known it," Ron continued, poking the rat with the tip of his wand. "Fred tried to teach me a spell to turn him yellow earlier, just to make him a little more interesting. Wanna see?"

Emma, who hadn't seen any magic, nodded vigorously.

Ron cleared his throat and hefted his wand, but was interrupted by the door sliding open yet again.

"Excuse me, but have any of you seen a toad?" a bushy brown haired girl asked. "Neville's lost one."

"We already told him we haven't seen it," Ron said, exasperated, but the girl wasn't listening to him. Instead, she was staring at Ron and his wand.

"Are you doing magic?" the girl said. "Let's see it then."

Emma felt a twinge of dislike towards the girl. Just the tone of her voice seemed to put Emma in a bad mood.

Ron looked confused for a moment before slowly saying, "Er- all right."

He cleared his throat.

"Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow,

turn this stupid, fat rat yellow!"

A spark of light came out of his wand, but nothing else happened. Scabbers stayed fast asleep in the pile of candy, still boringly gray. Emma felt a twinge of pity towards Ron as the girl considered him with criticism in her eyes.

"Are you sure that's a real spell?" she asked. "Well, it didn't seem to work, did it? I've only tried a few simple spells myself for practice, but they all seem to work for me. Nobody else in my family is magic, you see, so it was ever a surprise when I found out, but I was ever so pleased. I mean, it's the very best school for witchcraft there is, I've heard. I've learned all the course books by heart, of course, I just hope it's enough. I'm Hermione Granger, by the way. And you are?"

Emma had to give it to the girl. She had a way of saying things so fast without taking a single breath in between.

"I'm Ron Weasley," Ron muttered, obviously still embarrassed from his earlier fumble.

"Emma," Emma said. When Hermione's eyes didn't leave Emma, she added, "Potter."

"Are you really?" Hermione asked, her eyes wide. "Well, I know all about you, of course- I got a few extra books for background reading, and you're in Modern Magical History and The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts and Great Wizarding Event of the Twentieth Century!"

Emma, who had never been a big history buff, was taken completely aback.

Hermione must have seen her dazed look, as she added, "Goodness, didn't you know? I would've found out everything I could, if it were me."

"Well thank god we're not all you," Emma said, "otherwise we'd live in a land of know-it-alls."

It probably wasn't the nicest thing for Emma to say, but she couldn't help it. She hated it when people talked about her as a figure instead of a person.

Ron didn't help facts as he once again failed to hide his laughter. Hermione turned red in the face as her eyes narrowed. With a "Hmph!" she turned and left the compartment, Neville in tow.

"Whatever house I'm in when we get to Hogwarts, I hope she's not in it," Ron said confidently.

"Do you think you'll be put in the same house as your brothers?" Emma asked.

"I hope," Ron groaned. "They're all in Gryffindor, and so were mum and dad. Though, I suppose Ravenclaw wouldn't be too bad, but imagine if I got put in Slytherin!"

"What's so bad about Slytherin?" Emma asked. She had read about all the houses nad none seemed to be completely bad.

"That's the house You-Know-Who was in!"

"Voldemort?" Emma asked, causing Ron to gasp.

"You- you said his name! I thought you- of all people!"

"What's so wrong with the name?" Emma asked. "It's just a name. You're only giving it power if you refuse to say it."

Ron still had a scared look on his face, but didn't push the subject further, instead opting to start explaining to Emma the subject of quidditch.


	3. Chapter 2

**What's this? Two chapters in two days? What kind of madness? Don't get to used to it, though. I happened to be on a bit of a writing spree and had the day off from school so I decided to upload another chapter. I hope you guys like it!**

 **Disclaimer: The majority of characters and majority of the plotline belongs to the wonderful JK Rowling.**

 **Chapter 2: The Feast**

Ron just began to take Emma through the finer point of quidditch, a sport sounding a little bit like basketball albeit while flying when the compartment door slid open another time. But it wasn't Neville nor Hermione. Instead, three boys sauntered in, one pale boy with bleach white hair and two large, beefy boys with stocks of brown hair.

"Is it true?" the pale one said. "They're saying all up and down the train that Emma Potter is in this compartment. So it's you, is it?" His eyes landed on Emma.

"Wow, you can tell a girl from a boy," Emma drawled. "Congrats."

The boy didn't seem fazed as he continued to stare at Emma like she was some sort of anomaly. "This is Crabbe and this is Goyle," he said, pointing to his two bodyguards. "And I'm Malfoy. Draco, Malfoy."

"Just a heads up," Emma said as Ron broke out laughing, "saying your last name first doesn't make you sound cool. Just more like a douche."

This time, the boy's pale cheeks seemed to flush slightly. He chose to ignore Emma's comment and instead turned towards Ron.

"Think my name is funny, do you? No need to ask yours. My father said that all the Weasleys have red hair, freckles, and more children they can afford." Ron looked like he was about to deck Malfoy, but Emma sent him a warning look.

"You'll soon learn, Potter," Malfoy said, turning back towards Emma, "that some wizarding families are better than others. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort." His eyes flickered towards Ron before returning to Emma. "I can help you there."

He held out his hand as if Emma was going to take it to shake.

Emma considered his hand for a moment, Ron quietly staring before she stood up and faced Malfoy.

"I think I can tell the wrong sort for myself, especially when I'm staring at you," Emma said, her voice cool.

The flush in Malfoys cheeks intensified as he responded slowly, "I'd be careful if I were you, Potter. Unless you're a bit politer you'll go the same way as your parents. They didn't know what was good for them either. You hang around with riff-raff like Hagrid and the Weasleys, it'll rub off on you."

Emma and Ron both shot to their feet, but Emma got their first, a loud crack sounding as Emma's hand made contact with Malfoy's face.

"Don't you dare talk about my parents like that," she seethed, mildly pleased by the red hand mark now marring Malfoy's face.

With one last seething look, Malfoy turned and ran out of the compartment. Leaving Emma and Ron alone once again.

"That was amazing," Ron said, admiration clear on his face. Emma's hand was stinging, but the sensation of slapping Malfoy left a warm feeling in her gut.

The feeling evaporated as the door slid open once more, and Hermione Granger became visible in the door once more.

"What has been going on here?" she said, looking between Emma and Ron.

"I've heard of Malfoy's family before," Ron said to Emma. "They were some of the first to come back over to our side after You-Know-Who disappeared. Said they'd been bewitched. My dad doesn't believe it. Said that Malfoy's father didn't need an excuse to go over to the dark side."

"What a jerk," Emma pitched in. "Can we help you with something?" she asked Hermione, turning towards the girl.

"You'd better put your robes on," Hermione said matter-of-factly. "I've just been up to the front of the train and the conductor said we should be arriving soon. You haven't been fighting, have you? You're going to get into trouble before we even get to school."

"Like it's any of your business," Ron said before Emma could answer. "Now would you mind leaving while we change?"

"Fine. I only came in here because people are acting very childishly out there, racing up and down the corridors. But it doesn't seem to be any different here," she said in a sniffy voice. "And you've got dirt, on your nose, by the way, did you know?'

Ron left the compartment first, allowing Emma to change into her thick tights and uniform before they switched and Ron changed.

Emma stood in the corridor, trying to ignore the stares and muttering that seemed to be coming from everyone. It seemed like a lifetime before Ron opened the door again and Emma gratefully entered, taking her seat once more.

The train came to a jolting stop in no time, causing Emma's stomach to lurch with nerves. They were finally here.

Abandoning their trunks, Emma and Ron made their way out of the compartment and into the corridor full of buzzing students.

Emma once again cursed the short skirt that girls were forced to wear. The frosty wind on the platform chilled Emma to the bone, and she shivered involuntarily, causing Ron to laugh.

"Oh shut it," Emma growled. "You get pants and I don't."

"Perks of being a boy," Ron joked, poking Emma lightly.

"Firs' years! Firs' years over here! All right there, Emma?"

Hagrid came into view over the heads of the crowd, swinging a lantern.

"C'mon, follow me- any more firs' years? Mind yer step, now! Firs' years, follow me!"

Hagrid led them down a slippery slope. It was so dark on either side that you couldn't see left to right. The only reason that Emma knew Ron was still next to her was the fluent stream of curses he let out as he attempted not to slip as they walked. Other than that, it was practically silent. Neville sniffed once or twice from somewhere in front of Emma.

"Yeh'll get yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts in a sec," Hagrid called from the front of the pack. "Jus' round the bend here."

Everyone let out an "Oooooh!" as the path opened up to expose a great black lake. Perched on a mountain across it was a large castle, windows sparkling like stars. The architecture was so intricate that Emma felt her eyes widen.

"No more'n four to a boat!" Hagrid called, pointing towards a little fleet of boats docked at the edge of the lake.

Ron and Emma shoved into one with two boys who introduced themselves as Dean and Seamus.

"Everyone in?" Hagrid shouted. "Right then- FORWARD!"

The boats began to move slowly across the lake, leaving ripples in their wake.

"Rumor has it that there's a giant squid in the lake," Seamus said. He had a thick accent that Emma thought was Irish but she couldn't be sure.

"That sounds fake," Dean replied, rolling his eyes. "There's no such thing as a giant squid.

"Wanna bet on that?" Seamus asked.

"I wouldn't," Emma said, laughing. "I have a feeling you'll lose."

The boats bumped lightly to the shore and the kids clambered out, once again following Hagrid up a winding path. Emma stuck with Ron, Seamus, and Dean, avoiding Hermione and Malfoy at all costs.

When they reached the end of the path, Hagrid raised his large hand and knocked on the door.

A stern looking witch with gray hair pulled into a tight bun opened the door. She looked like Emma's Year 5 English teacher, Mrs. Hue. Mrs. Hue hated Emma.

"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall," Hagrid said.

"Thank you, Hagrid. I'll take it from here." Professor McGonagall stepped aside and Hagrid lumbered past, leaving the first years alone with McGonagall.

Without a word, McGonagall turned and walked back into the castle. The first years exchanged weary glances but followed her silently. They passed a large room full of kids sitting at four long tables and went to a small room off to the side where they piled in. The room was cramped and the first years stood shoulder to shoulder.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," Professor McGonagall said, shutting the door and coming in herself. "In a moment, you will be joining your peers at the house tables, but first you must be sorted. While you are here, your house will be like your family. You will eat meals together, share dorms, got to classes together. Any achievements will earn you house points and any rule-breaking will lose you them. At the end of the year, the house with the most points will win the House Cup, a great honor.

"The sorting ceremony will begin in a moment. You may want to smarten yourself up before we go," McGonagall finished. She glanced at a few first years in particular, including Ron who's ear turned red, before leaving them alone in the room.

"How exactly does the sorting process go?" Emma whispered to Ron.

"Fred told me it involved fighting a troll," Ron whispered back, fear laced in his voice.

"Well Fred's a twat," Emma said. "They wouldn't have us fight a troll in the middle of a hall of students."

"Maybe it's in a separate hall," Ron tried to reason.

"I heard me mum telling dad it was some sort of written test," Seamus said, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

"That sounds highly more likely," Emma said, causing Ron to roll his eyes.

"What if it's dangerous?" came another voice from somewhere in the crowd.

"How bad can it be?" Emma tried to reason, but her stomach was turning. It could be really bad. What if she didn't fit into any house. She didn't feel brave or cunning or smart or loyal right now. All she felt was a faint need to throw up. Emma pulled her robes tighter around herself, wishing she could just dissolve into them and never have to do anything again.

"You alright?" Ron asked, casting her a concerned glance.

"Could be better," Emma responded, willing her voice to steady. There was no reason for her to freak out. It only was going to make things worse.

"Form a line," came McGonagall's strict voice. "Let's go, the sorting is about to begin."

Emma paled even further but got into line between Ron and Seamus. The first years followed McGonagall, stumbling into the hall.

The great hall wasn't like anything Emma had ever seen before. The ceiling seemed to reflect the outside, a completely cloudless night with a bright moon. In the far corner were four large hourglasses, each with different colored gems; one blue, one red, one green, and one yellow. The tables had glittering gold plates and cups lining them, and each student was seated in front of a pair. The students seemed to be seated by house, each table with a different colored tie and trim inside their robes. Emma couldn't help but notice how small she looked compared to some of the older students. They all seemed so… big.

Professor McGonagall led them to the far side of the hall where there was a fifth table, this one with teachers sat at it. A small, three-legged stool sat on the floor right above a pair of steps, a hat seated on top of it. The entire hall seemed to be staring at the hat, so Emma fixed her own eyes on it. The hat had a certain worn feeling to it. Its brown color was faded and there were patches on it as if it had been used over and over.

Do we have to battle a hat? Emma thought to herself, before shaking a way that thought. Why would a wizard school have them do battle with a worn hat? It made sense. More likely-

Emma jumped with surprise as a rip appeared in the brim of the hat. "What the he-" she began to mutter as the hat began to sing.

"Oh you may not think I'm pretty,

but don't judge on what you see,

I'll eat myself if you can find

a smarter hat than me.

You can keep your bowlers black

your top hats sleek and tall,

for I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat,

and I can cap them all.

There's nothing hidden in your head

the sorting hat can't see,

so try me on and I will tell you

where you ought to be.

You might belong in Gryffindor

where dwell the brave at heart,

their daring, nerve, and chivalry

set Gryffindor apart;

You might belong in Hufflepuff

where they are just and loyal,

those patient Hufflepuffs are true

and unafraid of toil;

Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw

if you've a ready mind,

where those of wit and learning

will always find their kind;

Or perhaps in Slytherin

you'll make your real friends,

those cunning folk use any means

to achieve their ends.

So put me on! Don't be afraid!

And don't get in a flap!

You're in safe hands (though I have none)

for I'm a thinking cap!"

The hall erupted into cheers as if what the hat had just sung was a marvel. Emma was to busy being relieved to clap. All they had to do was try on a hat. That was the easiest test ever to exist. Trying on a hat was something she could do.

It felt as if a weight was lifted off her shoulders, and Emma felt a weak smile appear on her lips.

"I'm going to kill Fred," Ron whispered. "He was going on about wrestling a troll."

Emma laughed lightly. "I'll help you do it," she replied.

"When I call your name," Professor McGonagall called, holding a long piece of parchment, "please step forward and sit on the stool to be sorted. Abbott, Hanah!"

Emma watched as a girl with pigtails stumbled forward and had the hat placed on her head.

"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat after a moment's pause.

"Bones, Susan," was also a Hufflepuff but "Boot, Terry," became the first Ravenclaw.

Ron seemed to have zoned out completely, staring absentmindedly at the ceiling. Seamus was fiddling with some sort of contraption that Dean was eyeing warily.

Seamus got sorted into Gryffindor, followed closely by Hermione Granger. Ron's groan was audible as Hermione scuttled off to the Gryffindor table.

"I don't want to be in her house," he whined.

"Well you might not be," Emma whispered back, but that only seemed to sour Ron's mood.

The hat barely touched the head of Draco Malfoy (who was sporting a rather brilliant black eye) when he was sorted into Slytherin and flounced off to join Crabbe and Goyle. Looking at the Slytherin table, Emma couldn't help but realize that they all looked like a rather unpleasant lot.

There wasn't a large number of people left, Emma realized with a jolt. They were getting to the end.

When "Perks, Sally-Anne," was called and placed into Ravenclaw, an unpleasant jolt appeared in Emma's stomach. Her mind began to race a mile a minute, going through all the possibilities of bad things that could happen when she got up there.

"Potter, Emma," was called and Emma sucked in a deep breath.

"Good luck," Ron whispered and gave her a slight push forward.

Whispers broke out throughout the hall and Emma had to fight the urge to turn around and glare at the hall as a whole.

"Did she say Emma Potter?"

"Like the Emma Potter?"

"She doesn't look very impressive."

"Rather short, I think."

"Doesn't really look eleven, does she."

Emma scanned the hall as she sat on the stool. The last thing she saw were faces craning to get a good look at her when the hat dropped on her eyes and everything turned to black.

"Hmmm," said a small voice in her head. A talking hat, Emma thought, why not? "Difficult. Very Difficult. Plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind either, not at all. There's talent, oh yes. Such talent. You could go on to do great things, Emma Potter. Courage, so much courage. And a thirst to prove yourself. Well, you'll get your time, won't you? But where to put you, is the question?"

Emma thought of Draco Malfoy and his snarling face. Of the table of Slytherins who all seemed to be glaring at her. Not Slytherin, she thought, Anything but Slytherin.

"Not Slytherin, hmm? Are you sure? Slytherin could help you become who you thirst to be. What about Hufflepuff? You are loyal enough. But… no, not Hufflepuff. Your mind is true, that's for sure, but Ravenclaw doesn't seem to be the fit for you. Well, if you're sure about Slytherin, better be GRYFFINDOR!"

Somehow, Emma was sure that these last words were shouted into the hall. Thunderous applause sounded as Emma passed the hat back to McGonagall and walked shakily to the Gryffindor table. Percy got up a vigorously shook Emma's hand, surprising her. The Weasley twins and their friends were screaming "We got Potter! We got Potter!" Emma sat down next to Seamus who grinned at her. She couldn't help but grin back.

Dean Thomas joined them soon after, and when Ron got sorted into Gryffindor, Emma clapped loudly along with all of the rest of the Weasleys.

"Good job, Ron," Percy Weasley said, patting his brother on the back. Ron grinned, collapsing into a seat next to Emma.

"See," Emma whispered, looping an arm around Ron's shoulder, "told ya it couldn't be too bad."

"Shut up," Ron smirked. "You were just as nervous as me."

"Was not!" Emma said. "You were pale as a ghost."

"And you looked on the verge of throwing up."

"Let's all agree," Lavender Brown, one of the other first-year Gryffindors, piped in, "that Seamus was the most scared."

"Hey!" the boy in question objected, causing all the kids to laugh.

"Welcome!" a tall man in billowing blue robes said, standing up. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you."

The hall burst into cheers, but Emma just clapped uncertainty. He seemed slightly… well, insane.

"Who was that?" Emma whispered.

"Albus Dumbledore," Percy Weasley chimed in, leaning overtop of Dean and Seamus who looked taken aback. "The man's a genius! Best wizard in the world!"

"He seems insane," Emma said blatantly, earning a glare from Percy.

"Potatoes, Emma?" Ron asked, loading his own plate.

Emma's mouth fell open. The golden platters on the table were now full of varieties of food, everything from chicken to peas, ketchup, gravy, chops, and even what looked like peppermint humbugs. She had never seen so much food in her life.

Emma, who had never been starved at the Dursleys but never was allowed to eat a lot, piled her plate high with food. The only person who had more was Ron, who somehow managed to eat the entire plate.

"No wonder the two of you hit it off," Dean teased. "You both could eat a horse."

"It tastes good," Emma argued through a mouth of food.

"Mmhm," Ron agreed, shoveling some potatoes into his mouth.

Both let out sounds of distress when, a few minutes later, all the food disappeared. But moments later dessert appeared, and the two immersed themselves in blocks of ice cream, pies, tarts, doughnuts, trifles, jello, rice pudding…

Talk turned to their families as all the kids gorged themselves on dessert.

"I'm half-and-half," Seamus was saying. "Me dad's a Muggle. Mom didn't tell him she was a witch 'til after they were married. Bit of a nasty shock for him!"

"Both my parents are wizards," Lavender said, biting into a cookie, "but they're not around a lot. Mum works in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and Dad owns his own sweets shop. My older sister, Bryn, practically raised me."

"Mum and dad have always been really overprotective of Pad and me," Parvati Patil said. "It's quite annoying actually."

"I'm a muggleborn," Dean said. "My dad died when I was really little, but my mom remarried."

"What about you, Neville?" Emma asked one of the other new Gryffindors.

"My gran brought me up and she's a witch," Neville said, "but I thought I was a muggle for a while. I didn't show any magical signs until I was ten. Gran was so pleased when I got my letter that she bought me Trevor."

Emma turned towards the staff table, glancing up and down it. Hagrid gave her a little wave and a wink, causing Emma to smile back at him, but all of the other teachers were mid-conversation. Emma recognized Professor Quirrell talking with a professor who had long black hair and a hooked nose. As if knowing Emma was looking at him, the teacher turned and glared at her.

As soon as his eyes met her, pain shot through her scar.

"Ouch!" Emma groaned, slapping a hand to her head.

"Are you alright?"

"Emma?"

"What's the matter?"

All of the Gryffindor first years turned towards her, looks of concern on their face.

"N-nothing. I'm alright," Emma replied, trying to keep her voice even. But the pounding in her scar lingered through the rest of dessert.

When all the dessert disappeared, Professor Dumbledore stood up again.

"Ahem- just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give to you.

"First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well."

Emma could have sworn that Dumbledore's eyes flickered to the Weasleys who were whistling a tune with matching innocent looks on their faces. Emma laughed lightly and Fred flashed her a cheesy grin.

"I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors.

"Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch.

"And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."

Emma couldn't help but think that saying this wasn't the best idea on the head master's part. If there was one thing Emma had learned throughout her years was that telling a group of kids not to do something only made them want to do it more. She, for one, was already wondering what was in the corridor.

Ron caught Emma's eye and frowned at the look on her face. "You're not seriously thinking about going into the corridor, are you?"

"Wasn't it you who said you wanted to live up to your brothers?" Emma asked innocently.

"Live up to them," Ron said. "I'm pretty sure that involves living."

"What's life without a little adventure?" Emma said, her eyes twinkling.

"And now," Dumbledore said, causing Emma to frown. She hadn't realized the professor was still talking. "Let us sing our school song!"

Emma was sure her face showed exactly what she thought of singing, as Ron began to laugh at her.

"Everyone pick your favorite tune and off we go!"

 **And there you have it, folks! I hope you guys liked it! If you did, please drop a review and follow/favorite. Also if you have any questions regarding me as a person or as a writer, or if you have any ideas about this story, feel free to review or PM me!**

 **See you all next week!**


	4. Chapter 3

**Hey guys! Hope you're having a good week! So just to clarify, my update schedule will most likely be every Sunday and Wednesday, but it may get a bit wonky. I'm also working on a couple of other fanfics so I may upload them too (feel free to pm me or review if you want to see a certain fic).**

 **That's all for today folks! I hope you enjoy the chapter!**

 **Disclaimer: As always, JKR has rights to most everything except for most dialogue and some other character development.**

 **A Light in the Dark Chapter 3: The First Day**

* * *

Emma woke up to a dark dorm room. She pulled back her bed hanging and was greeted by a dim light shining through the windows. The sun had just begun to rise and the other three girls were still fast asleep. Quietly, Emma gathered together a tank top, shorts, and her sneakers and snuck out of the dorm.

The lake was basked in reds and oranges by the time Emma got out there. A slight chill blew its way across the grounds, causing Emma to shiver in only her tank top and shorts.

She considered the dew filled ground for a moment before breaking out into a light jog, slowly picking up the pace.

She had started running when she was younger, using it as a reason to get out of the Dursley's house and loving the dismayed look that Petunia wore when Emma came home covered in sweat with mud all over her sneakers. Soon, though, it became a sort of obsession. She went running almost every chance she got. The feeling of pushing herself to the limit, to the point where her legs felt like they were about to fall off and her lungs were about to implode, made her feel like she was on top of the world. And that point after where all that pain slipped away and only the sound of blood rushing in her ears and her feet pounding against the ground was left… That was her favorite part.

Emma lost herself in her run, unaware that the sun had risen and someone was calling her name.

"EMMA!" Fred's voice broke through her bliss and causing Emma to crash back into reality. Emma stopped short, bending over and breathing heavily.

"What was… that for?" Emma asked, gasping to catch her breath.

"How long have you been out here?" Fred asked incredulously, ignoring her previous question.

"What do you… wait, what time is it?" Emma asked, registering for the first time the bright sky.

"It's almost eight," Fred said. "Classes start in five minutes."

Emma cursed, causing Fred to look taken aback. She took off at a run and Fred shouted after her, but Emma just kept on running.

She sprinted through the castle, causing kids to jump to the side and start whispering. She already could imagine the rumors that were about to spread. _Crazy Emma Potter_. But she didn't have time to care about it.

"Caput Draconis," Emma breathed, yanking the portrait open.

"Oh, sure, just ignore the painting! Good morning to you too!" the fat lady called after her.

She ran up the stairs and threw on her robes. She had had the intuition to pack her bag the night before, so all she had to do was grab it before running back out of the common room.

She showed up to Transfiguration in a frenzy midway through McGonagall's opening lecture.

The professor stopped and glared at her as Emma made her way to the seat Ron had saved for her. She was happy her face was flushed from running or else the embarrassment would be clear.

"Nice of you to join us, Miss Potter," McGonagall said, peeking at her over her spectacles.

"I… lost track… of time," Emma breathed out, still out of breath.

"Well obviously," McGonagall said. "I would suggest a watch next time. Maybe then you won't lose five points from Gryffindor. Now, as I was saying…"

Emma leaned back in her seat, trying to steady her breathing.

"Where were you?" Ron whispered to her. "And why do you smell?"

"Thanks, Ron," Emma said sarcastically.

"What? It's true!"

The day didn't get any better from there.

Defense Against the Dark Arts, a class which everyone, Emma included, was looking forward to the most, ended up being the most boring class there was. Quirrell seemed to be afraid of everything, even his own shadow. This led to them reading out of the book the entire class before a quivering Quirrell finally let them go.

By the time they got to lunch, Emma smelled bad and was bored out of her mind, not to mention sore from her four-hour run.

"Go to Madam Pomfrey and ask for something," Ron urged her as they walked to the Great Hall, Emma groaning with every step.

"And miss lunch after having already missing breakfast?" Emma asked, wincing. "Not likely."

"How'd I end up with an idiot as my friend?" Ron groaned but didn't argue more. By the time they finally got to the Great Hall, lunch was already underway. The two collapsed into seats by all the other Gryffindor first years who were already talking about the rest of the day.

"I heard Snape is a dick," Seamus said, causing Lavender to hit him.

"He's still a professor, you nimrod," she said.

"A dicky one," Seamus replied.

"I heard he favors his own house majorly," Dean continued, ignoring Seamus and Lavender's bickering.

"Wish McGonagall would favor us," Ron said moodily.

"Yeah, maybe then Emma wouldn't have lost us as many points," Parvati teased.

"I wasn't _that_ late," Emma argued, munching on her steak and kidney pie.

"What were you doing anyway?" Neville asked her.

"Running," she said simply.

"Eww," Lavender said. "Who runs?"

"It's fun," Emma protested, but it went unheard as Lavender and Seamus began to argue over whether or not running was fun.

"Oi, Weasley!" Emma called out as to heads of familiar red hair passed by their group.

"Yes?" came three replies.

"Fred," Emma clarified, rolling her eyes as the boys broke into laughter. "Alright, enough."

"What's up?" Fred asked as Lee and George continued on without him, causing Fred to throw an apple at them.

"I never got to thank you for coming to get me," Emma said.

"I couldn't let a pretty girl like you be late to her first class," Fred said, with a smirk and a wink.

Emma felt herself flush red. "I was still late, you turd!" she called after him as he ran to catch up with his twin and friend.

"That was the most disgusting thing I ever experienced," Ron said, pushing his plate of food away. "I can't even eat now."

Emma slapped him on the arm for good measures before taking his plate and eating the leftovers.

The laughing group of first years made their way to the dungeons, Emma getting a piggyback ride from Ron who had been complaining about her slow pace. The doors were locked so they stood in the hallway, Lavender and Seamus bickering about God know what and Emma still perched lightly on Ron's back.

"You literally way nothing Em," Ron was complaining. "How do you manage to eat so much and not gain a single pound."

"Magic," Emma joked. "And a whole lot of running."

"I have to get myself into this running," Seamus joked, breaking off from his argument.

"Any time, Finigan," Emma replied. "You've just got to be up early enough."

"On second thought," Seamus said, "I think I prefer my sleep."

Their group laughed again but were cut off abruptly by the dungeon doors swinging open.

"In," Snape said, a scowl marring his face. "And get off of Weasley, Potter. You have two good legs. Use them." He turned around and walked inside, Emma sticking her tongue at his back while she slid off of Ron.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion making," Snape began once they all found a place to sit. His voice was so soft that the entire class had to strain to listen. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the minds, ensnaring the senses."

"Cheery lad, isn't he," Emma whispered to Ron who had to hide a snigger behind his hand.

"Potter!" Snape called out suddenly. Emma wiped her head around to stare at the teacher who was glaring at her with menace. Emma matched his glare with ease. "Ah yes, our new celebrity," Snape snarled. "Tell me, Potter, what would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

"Draught of Living Death," Emma answered immediately, refusing to break her glare. Hermione's hand had shot into the air at the question but dropped as soon as Emma answered it, a look of disappointment on her face as if she had wished Emma had gotten the answer wrong.

Snape's lips curled into a sneer. "Where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

"The stomach of a goat," Emma replied. "But I'm guessing that you have them in this classroom, _Professor_."

Hermione's hand was quivering in the air as if Snape was going to call on her instead of Emma.

"What, Potter, is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

"There is none. They're both the same plant that goes by the common name of aconite." Emma's glare intensified. "Now, will I be getting a grade for this test, professor, or is interrogating me with questions you _know_ no first year should know your idea of first-day fun? Because I am more than willing to amuse you with my abundant knowledge. Or, better yet, why don't you actually teach this class a solid lesson instead of taking out your anger about God knows what on an eleven-year-old?"

You could've heard a pin drop in the silence that followed. Snape's face had paled to a deadly white and he finally broke the staring contest he and Emma were having. "Put your hand down," he ordered Hermione who was bobbing up and down in her seat. "Detention, Potter, for your cheek. And twenty points from Gryffindor."

Snape turned away to jot something down in his book and Emma was greeted by a smile and thumbs up from Seamus as well as a few looks of admiration from the rest of the Gryffindors, minus Hermione who's face had turned a deep shade of red.

"How did you know all that stuff?" Ron asked, his face full of wonder.

"Science was my favorite subject in Muggle school. It's very similar to this so I probably read my potions textbook a hundred times before coming here," Emma whispered back. She turned to find Hermione glaring at her, her face still completely red. "Not all of us like to broadcast the fact that we know stuff," Emma continued to Ron who followed her eyes to Hermione.

Ron rolled his eyes before saying, "Ignore her. She's just mad that someone else in this school has some sort of knowledge."

Things did not improve throughout the rest of class. They were making a simple Cure for Boils. Snape swept up and down the aisle criticizing all of the Gryffindor's potions, no matter how good they were. He was just telling the entire class how amazing Malfoy's potion was when a loud _BANG_ was heard and puffs of acid green smoke began to rise from Seamus and Neville's station next to Emma and Ron's. Seamus's cauldron had turned into a twisted black blob and their potion had begun to seep across the floor. Within seconds, the entire class was standing on their stools except for Neville who had been hit with the full force of the potion and was on the floor covered in angry red boils.

"Idiot boy," Snape seethed, waving his wand and cleaning up the potion. "I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off of the fire?"

All Neville could do was whimper.

"You," Snape snapped at Seamus. "Take him to the hospital wing." Snape rounded on Ron and Emma who were just getting off of their stools.

"Potter," he spat. "Why didn't you tell him not to add the quills? Thought he'd make you look good if he got it wrong?"

"Maybe it was because, oh yeah, that's not my job," Emma rebuked. "Actually, if I remember correctly, watching the students is the job of the teacher. Besides, I don't need Neville messing up to make me look good." And she wasn't wrong. Her and Ron's near perfect potion was bubbling away merrily in its cauldron.

Snape sneered at her. "Another ten points from Gryffindor, Potter, and two more days worth of detention."

Her mood was so sour by the time they reached the Great Hall that all of the Gryffindors were trying to cheer her up.

"It's not that many points!"

"The detentions will go by in a jiffy."

"Fred and George always lose loads of points. You can't be as bad as them."

"I don't care about the points," Emma said angrily. "I care about the fact that Snape is a right-" she said a word that earned her a glare from Hermione who was a few seats down. "It doesn't help that I have a pounding headache and my scar is _killing_ me."

"Your scar hurts?" Ron asked, concern lacing his voice. "Does that happen often?"

"No," Emma said, rubbing her head. "It started last night and hasn't lessened up since."

"Maybe you should go to Madam Pomfrey," Ron tried, but Emma shook her head.

"Rumors about me are already flying around this school, I don't want to add any more."

Emma ate mostly in silence for the rest of the meal, excusing herself early with an excuse of having to get homework done before her detention.

She made it as far as halfway through the entrance hall before Fred and George caught up to her, taking up residence on either side.

"Why so glum, Miss Potter?" Fred asked as he and George matched her short strides.

"What do you two want?" Emma said, not in the mood to put up with anyone.

"We just wanted to congratulate you," George said.

"Yeah, 35 points and three detentions in one day," Fred continued.

"I don't think even we got that much on our first day."

"Plus we heard that you put that git Snape in his place."

"About time someone did."

Despite herself, Emma felt a small smile crack on her lips.

"She smiles!" Fred cheered, high fiving George over her head.

"Don't get too proud of yourself, you idiots," Emma said sulkily, pulling her bag farther up her shoulder.

"You should smile more often, Emma," Fred said, a giving her a goofy one of his own. "It makes you that much prettier."

The two scampered off as Emma threw a spare quill at the two. "Gits!" she called after them, earning her a sharp look from a passing professor.

By the time Emma had finished detention that night, the common room was deserted. The idea of having to climb up all the stairs to get to her dorm made Emma cringe. Instead, she dropped robes and all onto a couch by the fire and shut her eyes, letting herself drift off into sleep.

When she woke, a blanket was pulled over her and her bag was placed lightly on the ground next to her as the dying embers of the fire cast a luminous light on the smile that was on her face.

* * *

 **That's all for today, folks! Hope you enjoyed!**

 **See you all Sunday!**


	5. Chapter 4

**Hey guys! Happy Sunday (If you're in the same time zone as me)! I hope y'all had a good week and are ready for another chapter! I'm actually really happy with how this one turned out, and I tried to make it a little longer to help make up for the shortness of last chapter! I hope you all enjoy! As always, thank you so much for reading and please review with suggestions, questions, or comments! Enjoy guys!**

 **Chapter 4- The Flying Fiasco**

Potions soon turned into Emma's least favorite class. Snape took away practically every other point Emma gained from other classes and followed them by detentions practically every night. He seemed to have a personal agenda against Emma, for reasons unbeknownst to her. This, along with all of the other teachers giving them mounds of homework, made for a very busy first weekend.

Monday morning dawned grey and cloudy, mirroring the same mood Emma was in.

"We have potions first block," she groaned as she plopped herself down next to Ron for breakfast. Although it was barely seven, Emma had been up for hours, first running around the Black Lake a few times and then taking a quick shower before meeting Ron.

"You never know," Seamus said as he took a bite of his sausage. "Maybe Snape died a painful death during the night."

"Wouldn't that be nice," Emma muttered.

"Cheer up," Ron said. "At least we have flying after lunch!"

"Yeah, with the Slytherins," Emma reminded him.

"And won't it be great to see the look of surprise on Malfoy's face when you're better at flying then him."

"That's likely," Emma said sarcastically. "Seeing as I've never been on a broom before."

The owls soared in, bringing the morning post with them. A brown barn owl landed in front of Emma with her subscription to the Daily Prophet. She untied the paper from the owls leg and placed a sickle into the little pouch before turning back to her eggs. The fork was halfway to her mouth when the headline of the paper caught her attention.

GRINGOTTS BREAK-IN LATEST

Investigations continue into the break-in at the

wizarding bank, Gringotts, on 31 of July, widely

believed to be the work of dark wizards and/or

witches unknown.

Gringotts goblins today insisted nothing

had been taken. The vault that was searched,

vault seven hundred and thirteen, had in fact

been emptied the same day.

"But we're not telling you what was in the

vault, so keep your noses out if you know what's

good for you," said a Gringotts spokesgoblin this

afternoon.

"Ron." Emma nudged the red haired boy who was too busy eating to pay attention.

"Mghp," he replied through a mouthful of eggs.

"Someone broke into Gringotts," Emma explained, showing him the paper.

"Oh yeah, there was a big article about it after it happened. Mum and dad think it's probably just a scare."

"It happened on the same day Hagrid took me to Gringotts _and_ they tried to break into _the same vault,_ " Emma hissed.

"They… what?" Ron asked.

"When Hagrid took me to Gringotts, we stopped at vault seven hundred and thirteen before going to my vault. Hagrid took a little package from the vault, saying he had instructions to do so from Dumbledore. That had to be what they were looking for," Emma said.

"Well, what was it?" Ron asked.

"If I knew, don't you think I would tell you?" she said, exasperated. But before she could continue, a small commotion between Neville and Malfoy drew away her attention.

Emma made it through potions with losing only 10 house points and gaining only one detention. Flitwick continued their lesson on Lumos, but when he realized that no one could pay attention with the prospect of flying lessons so close, he let them go to lunch, muttering about absent minded kids.

By the time the Gryffindors were hurrying down the grounds for their first flying lesson, a light drizzle had started and a cold wind followed. They were all wrapped up in their cloaks, marching down the sloping lawns towards where Madam Hooch was waiting for them all.

The Slytherins were all already there, each person standing next to a broomstick. The Gryffindors stuck by each other, taking up residence as far from the Slytherins as possible.

"As you can see," Madam Hooch shouted over a gust of wind, "the weather is not cooperating. As such, we will not be flying today. Instead, I will take you over the basics of summoning and mounting a broom. Now, if you are not standing by a broom already, please do so."

A few kids shuffled around until everyone was standing next to a ratty old broom. Emma couldn't help but think, with the wood chipping and twigs sticking out at odd angles, that the brooms couldn't be safe to fly.

"Everyone stick out your right hand over your broom," called Madam Hooch, "and say 'Up!'"

"Up!" everyone shouted.

To Emma's joy, the broom jumped straight into her hands. She was one of only a few whose did. Upsettingly, Malfoy's did too. She couldn't help but grin when she saw Hermione's broom had simply rolled over, and broke into fits of laughter when she saw Seamus's had smacked him right in the face. It took about five minutes for everyone to finally have their brooms gripped in their hands, some even resorting to picking them up off the floor when Madam Hooch's back was turned.

The rain got increasingly heavier as time went on, turning into a complete downpour. Madam Hooch began to show them how to mount their brooms so as not to slide off the end. She walked up and down, correcting their grips. Emma and Ron grinned when she told Malfoy that he'd been doing it wrong the whole time.

"Now, if the weather was cooperating and we were to fly, you would kick off firmly from the ground and-" Madam Hooch began, but she was cut off by Neville, who hadn't heard the entire instruction over the wind, kicking off and shooting upwards like a cork chot out of a bottle. He rose higher and higher, his face turning whiter and whiter. When he looked off the side of the broom to see how high he was, he simply fell sideways and towards the ground, landing with a loud WHAM!

Madam Hooch hustled towards the fallen boy and bent over him, her face as white as snow.

"Broken wrist," she murmured. "Come on, boy- it's alright, up you get."

Whimpering, Neville rose to his feet, his wrist bent at an odd angle. Madam Hooch turned and considered the class for a moment before saying, "None of you is to move while I take this boy to the hospital wing! You leave those brooms where they are or you'll be out of Hogwarts before you can say 'Quidditch'."

She ushered Neville off the field, leaving the rest of them in the heavy rain.

"Did you see his face, the great lump," Malfoy jeered as soon as Hooch was out of earshot.

Before Emma could reply, Parvati piped up, saying, "Shut up, Malfoy."

"Ooh, sticking up for Longbottom?" Pansy Parkinson jeered. "Never thought _you'd_ like fat little crybabies Parvati!"

"And _I_ never thought a human and cow could have a child, but here you are, Parkinson," Seamus replied, making Pansy turn red and causing the other Gryffindors to laugh

"Look!" said Malfoy, darting forward and snatching something out of the grass. "It's that stupid thing Longbottom's gran sent him."

Neville's Remembrall stood out in contrast against the rain.

"I don't think that belongs to you," Emma said simply, stepping forward towards where Malfoy stood. "And I know you had pretty sucky parents, but you would think that they'd have at least taught you not to steal."

"What do you know about having parents, Potter," Malfoy spat. "At least mine are still alive."

"Give it here, Malfoy," Emma said softly, her eyes fixed on the Remembrall.

"I think I'll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find," Malfoy said, hoping on his broomstick and shooting off into the air.

Emma grabbed the nearest broom stick to her, swinging one leg around.

" _No_ ," Hermione Granger shouted. "Madam Hooch told us not to move. You'll lose even _more_ points for Gryffindor."

"Oh stuff it," Emma retorted as she kicked hard against the ground and shot up. With a rush of joy, Emma realized that something _was_ better than running. Her robes billowed out behind her and a sense of belonging bloomed in Emma's chest. This was easy- this was _incredible_. She shot up even higher, earning a whoop from Ron, as she leveled her broom to face Malfoy.

The pale boy looked stunned.

"Give it here, Malfoy," Emma roared over the wind, "or I'll knock you off your broom."

"Oh yeah," Malfoy sneered, but he looked worried. A fierce wind came in, knocking his broom slightly off balance. Emma leaned flat against her broom and shot at Malfoy, who barely had enough time to get out of her way. Rain splattered against her glasses, causing her vision to blur. "Catch it if you can then!" Malfoy pulled his arm back and threw the Remerball as hard as he could. Emma flattened herself against the broom again, racing forward. As if in slow motion, Emma saw the ball rise in the air and then fall. She pointed the tip of her broom down and the next second she was picking up speed in a dive, racing the ball. The rain whistled in her ears, blocking the sound from the crowd. She reached out a hand, clutching it mere feet from the ground, and pulled her broom out of the dive. A sense of relief poured into her stomach as she steadied herself, placing her other hand on the rain slick broom-

And falling the remaining 10 feet to the ground, landing hard on her ankle. She let out a small scream and fell to the ground, pain shooting through it.

"Emma!" she heard shouted from the crowded as all of the Gryffindors surged forward.

"EMMA POTTER!"

The crowd froze and parted, allowing McGonagall to rush through.

" _Never_ \- in all my time at Hogwarts-"

The professor seemed almost speechless in shock, staring down at the muddy, pale mess that was Emma.

"-how _dare_ you-you would have broken your neck or-or- My God your ankle!"

Emma looked down to find her ankle pointing at a completely unnatural angle. She resisted the urge to throw up at the sight.

"It wasn't her fault, Professor-"

"Be quiet, Miss Patil-"

"But Malfoy-"

"That is enough, Mr. Thomas. Mr. Weasley, Mr. Finnigan, kindly help Miss Potter up-"

"I can stand, Professor-"

"You most certainly cannot. Weasley, Finnigan, now please, and follow me." A white faced Ron and Seamus helped Emma to her feet amidst a flock of Gryffindors, all with sympathetic looks on their faces. The two helped her limp after McGonagall who brought her through a set of doors on the first floor and into a room that had rows of beds with white sheets.

"Minerva?" came a voice from one of the beds.

"Ah, Rolanda," McGonagall said as Madam Hooch came out from behind a curtain. "It seems as if your students have a bit of trouble following the rules."

"Miss Potter!" Madam Hooch yelled as she spotted Emma being helped into a bed by Seamus and Ron.

"I will deal with Miss Potter, Rolanda, if that's alright with you. Mr. Malfoy was also involved in the ordeal, if you would like to deal with him."

With a nod, Madam Hooch left through the same doors she came in. Another lady bustled towards them, but McGonagall said, "Would you mind giving us a minute, Madam Pomfrey. I need to have a word with Miss Potter." she turned back towards where Emma, Seamus, and Ron were. "Mr. Finnigan, if you would kindly return to class and Mr. Weasley, could you go to Professor Flitwick's room and ask to have Wood sent down to the Hospital Wing. You can go back to class after, as well."

"Wood, as in-"

" _Now_ , Mr. Weasley," Professor McGonagall said.

Ron and Seamus both reluctantly bade Emma goodbye and with one more sympathetic look, left the room.

McGonagall turned her gaze towards Emma who was sat guilty on a bed.

"What were you _thinking_?" McGonagall seethed. "You could've _died_! You're lucky the worst you did was break an ankle. It is down pouring and you decide it's a good idea to go _flying_ for the first time, without supervision, I might add. And to top it all off, you attempt the most _ridiculously complex_ dive I have ever seen. You're beyond lucky you didn't break a neck. No," Professor McGonagall continued as Emma opened her mouth to respond, "I don't care what Mr. Malfoy may or may not have done. You are part of my house, and as such, you are to behave accordingly! You are not to go off and respond to every taunt Mr. Malfoy, or Professor Snape, for that matter, throws at you!"

"You have to admit, that was a pretty spectacular dive," Emma said, a grin on her face despite the scolding she had just received.

"You really are James Potter's daughter, aren't you," McGonagall sighed before continuing. "And while we're on the subject, I don't care how rude Professor Snape is being. I can't have you in detention and losing house points every day if you are to be on the team. Ah, Wood, good."

 _What team_ , Emma thought, as a burly fifth-year walked into the Hospital Wing looking extremely confused. When he caught sight of Emma, he balked. She couldn't blame him. She was quite a sight in her muddy robes and propped up ankle.

"Potter," McGonagall said, "this is Oliver Wood. Wood- I've found you a seeker."

Wood's expression changed from confusion to delight in a second's time.

"Are you serious, Professor?"

"Absolutely. The girl's a natural. I've never seen anything like it."

Now it was Emma's turn to look confused. Professor McGonagall went from chewing her out to praising her in two seconds time.

"The first time she's ever been on a broom stick and she caught that thing after a fifty-foot dive in the pouring rain and howling wind, and she only broke an ankle. Even Charlie Weasley wouldn't have been able to do it that well without breaking his neck."

Wood looked at her excitedly, scanning her up and down/

"Ever seen a game of quidditch, Potter?" Wood asked, looking as if all of his dreams had come true.

"Ron's told me a bit about it but that's it," Emma said. Her adrenaline had started to fade away and the searing pain in her ankle was only getting worse.

"She's just the build for a seeker, too," Wood said, walking around the bed Emma was laying in. "Light, speedy- we'll have to get her a decent broom, Professor. A Nimbus Two Thousand or a Cleansweep seven, I'd say."

"I shall speak to Professor Dumbledore and see if we can't bend the first-year rule. Heaven knows we need a better team then last year. _Flattened_ by that last match against Slytherin. I couldn't look at Severus Snape in the eye for weeks."

Professor McGonagall glared at Emma over her glasses. The girl in question was grinning despite the pain in her ankle.

"I want to hear that you're training hard, Potter, or I might change my mind about punishing you. And practices will be in the evenings, so no more detentions by Snape, do you promise?"

"Promise," Emma grinned.

To her surprise, McGonagall matched it. "Your father would have been proud. He was an excellent quidditch player himself. Now, Poppy, if you please, could you fix up Miss Potter's ankle. She looks on the verge of passing out."

The matron came bustling over, tutting about dangerous sports and idiotic students as she gave Emma a potion for the pain and waved her wand, causing her foot to fly back to its usual position and lessening the pain completely. With another wave, a tight binding appeared over Emma's barely swollen ankle.

"Keep that on for three more days and no physical strain on it for at least five," the matron said. "And I'm keeping you here until at least after dinner."

McGonagall sent Wood back to class and, with a few more once-overs of Emma, he reluctantly left. McGonagall herself left soon after.

"Rest, Miss Potter," she said before she left. "Magic takes a toll on the body, both performing it and having it performed on you."

Emma did feel more tired than usual, but she had chalked it up to having performed the nearly impossible.

"Seeker, huh?" came a familiar voice from a couple of beds down.

"Neville!" Emma said, relieved that she wasn't alone. "I forgot you were in here! How's your arm?"

"Better," Neville said, showing her his newly wrapped wrist. "Madam Pomfrey wanted me to stay 'In case something happens." He did an impersonation of Pomfrey that caused Emma to laugh and earned them a glare from the matron. "How's your leg?"

"Better," Emma agreed, "though I'm afraid these sheets are going to need a nice washing."

"Definitely," Neville agreed, shifting around in his own muddy sheets.

"Oh, and I believe this belongs to you," Emma said, tossing the Remerberall that was still clutched in her hands to Neville.

"Thanks," Neville said, picking it up from where it landed on his bed. "I don't know what happened, but thanks for risking getting into trouble."

"Getting into trouble is what I do best," Emma replied lightly.

"Emma!" came a cry from the door, and all of the first year Gryffindors rushed in, leaving muddy footprints in their wake. Ron reached her first, coming to a stop just short of her bed.

"Are you alright?"

"How much trouble did you get in?"

"You should've seen Malfoy's face. Madam Hooch came out and cut him a new one in front of the entire class."

"That was bloody stupid of you!"

"That was bloody brilliant!"

"I'm fine," Emma assured them. "And I'm not in any trouble."

"McGonagall just let you off?" Dean asked incredulously.

"I guess she does favor her house sometimes," Emma said simply.

After double checking that she was alright, the Gryffindors went over to check on Neville before slowly dispersing to dinner, leaving only Ron with Emma.

"You're _joking_!" Ron said after Emma finished telling him what had happened after he had left the Hospital Wing. "Well, of course you're not joking, but _seeker_? I knew it was strange when McGonagall sent me to go find Oliver Wood, but I didn't expect this. First years _never_ \- you must be the youngest house player in about-"

"-a century," Emma finished for him. "Wood told me."

Ron just stared at her like she was the most impressive thing he'd ever seen.

"I start training next week," Emma said, "once I finish my detention with Snape. Only, don't tell anyone, Wood wants to keep it a secret. Only you and Neville know."

The door to the Hospital Wing opened again and Fred and George entered, spotted Emma, and hurried over.

"Are you alright, Emma," Fred asked hurriedly when he spotted her wrapped up ankle.

"Oh I'm fine, just a little tumble," Emma said, answering the question for what felt like the millionth time. "I'm better off than Malfoy's ego."

"Speaking of, well done," George beamed, taking one of the unoccupied seats by Emma's bed. Fred took the other one. "Wood told us. We're on the team too- Beaters."

"I tell you," Fred continued, his eyes bright, "we're going to win the Quidditch cup this year for sure. We haven't won since Charlie left, but this year's team is going to be brilliant. You must be good, Em, Wood was practically skipping when he told us."

"Anyway, we have to go," George said. "Lee's found another passageway out of the school."

"Are you _sure_ you're alright Emma?" Fred asked warily.

"Fine," Emma promised, rolling her eyes. "Go look at your passageway."

Fred and George had hardly disappeared when Madam Pomfrey came over to do one last assessment on Emma before deeming her fit to leave.

"You are to come back if your ankle or your wrist so much as feels slightly funny!" she told them as Emma, Neville, and Ron made their way out of the Hospital Wing.

They had just made it to the stairs, however, when Malfoy appeared flanked by Crabbe and Goyle.

"Going to pack your bags, Potter," Malfoy sneered.

"Don't you wish," Emma said cooly. "You're a lot braver when you have your two bodyguards, Malfoy. There's a lot less of you screaming like a little girl."

"I'd take you on any time," Malfoy jeered. "Tonight, if you want. Wizard's duel. Wands only- no contact. What's the matter? Never heard of a Wizard's duel?"

"Of course she has," Ron jumped in. "I'm her second, who's yours?"

Malfoy looked at Crabbe and Goyle, as if he was sizing them up.

"Crabbe," he said finally. "Midnight all right? We'll meet you in the trophy room- that's always unlocked."

"Shake on it!" Neville piped up.

"What was that Schlongbottom?" Malfoy snapped.

"I said shake on it," Neville repeated clearly.

A look of distaste on his face, Malfoy reached out his hand and the two wizards shook.

When Malfoy had gone, Emma looked towards Neville.

"What was that all about, Nev?" she asked.

"I used to bet with my Uncle Algie all the time. He always did a spell when we shook hands. He said that if one of us backed out, the other person would be notified through the spell."

"I take it you did the spell," Ron said, grinning. "Neville, you're a genius."

"Notified how, exactly?" Emma asked warily.

"I dunno. Neither of us has ever backed out."

 **Thanks for reading guys! I hope you enjoyed!**

 **See you guys Wednesday!**


	6. Chapter 5

**Happy Wednesday! Ya girl doesn't have school today so an extra long update today! The middle is a bit of a filler but I had to get it out there. Next chapter starts quidditch so get excited! Anyways, hope you enjoy!**

 **Disclaimer: All rights to the Harry Potter series goes to the one and only, JK Rowling**

 **Chapter 5- Hallways and Halloween**

Emma lay fully clothed in her bed hours later, listening to the other three girls sleep. The wrap around her ankle had begun to itch a mere hour after she was let out of the hospital wing, and Emma took it off completely soon after that.

At 11:50, the clock on Emma's bedside table began to buzz lightly. Emma turned it off as quietly as she could and creeped her way out of bed. She met Ron and Neville at the bottom of the stairs, the latter somehow convincing them to let him come along.

"Got your wands?" Emma whispered. The two boys nodded. "Excellent. Let's go."

They inched their way slowly through the pitch black common room. Emma couldn't help but feel that she was pushing her luck. If they got caught and she got a detention, Professor McGonagall would have her hide.

They nearly made it to the portrait hole when a light flickered on.

"I can't believe you're doing this, Emma," Hermione Granger said. She was standing by the stairs in a fuzzy pink bathrobe.

" _You_!" Ron said furiously. "Go back to bed."

"I almost told your brother," Hermione snapped, striding to where they were standing. "He's a prefect. He would've put a stop to it."

Emma couldn't believe she was being so annoying.

"We don't have time for this," she urged Ron. "Let's go." She pushed open the portrait hole and climbed out, followed by Neville and Ron.

"Don't you even care about Gryffindor?" Hermione whispered furiously as she, to Emma's dismay, followed them out of the common room. "Or do you only care about yourselves? _I_ don't want Slytherin to win the house cup, and you'll lose all the points I got from knowing about switching spells!"

"Trust me, we'll lose much more than that," Emma replied, rolling her eyes. "Now go away."

"All right, fine. But remember what I said when you're on the train home tomorrow. I can't _believe_ you! Neville, I thought at least you'd be more sensible. As for you two, you're complete-"

But Hermione didn't finish her thought as she noticed the fat lady was missing out of the portrait.

"What am I supposed to do now!" Hermione whined.

"Not our problem," Emma said as she grabbed Ron and Neville's hand and took off down the hallway.

"I'm not staying here by myself!" Hermione said, catching up with them. Ron opened his mouth to argue, but Emma hissed at him, "No time!"

The four hurried through the hallway and made it to the trophy room with a minute to spare, but Malfoy hadn't shown up yet.

"He's gotta be coming, remember," Neville said as they waited in the room, Emma with her wand drawn just in case. "If he wasn't going to, we'd know, remember?"

After he said this, multiple things happened at once. A sound from the room over made them all jump, Filch's voice sounded through the walls, and Emma fell over, pain racing through her body.

"Emma!" Ron whispered urgently, leaning down. As fast as the pain came, it went, leaving Emma shocked on the ground.

"I'm guessing that was the notification," Neville said hurriedly, helping Emma to her feet.

"Filch- we've got to go," Emma said, setting off at a run, the other three close to follow. They weaved their way down the corridors and through a passageway that dumped them near the charms classroom.

"I think we've lost him," Ron panted, leaning against a wall. Emma must've been exhausted as she, even with all the running she did, was out of breath. Neville was bent over double, wheezing.

"I- _told_ \- you," Hermione gasped. "Malfoy tricked you. You realize that, don't you? He was never going to be in that trophy room! You're a complete _idiot_ rushing into things without even thinking about them-"

"Hermione, for once in your life, shut the hell up!" Emma seethed. Hermione was right. Emma _knew_ she was right. But there was no way that she was going to tell her that.

"We've got to get back to Gryffindor Tower," Ron said quickly. "Come on."

But like everything else that night, it was easier said than done. They had barely gotten a few steps when something came shooting out of a classroom in front of them. The four froze, expecting a teacher.

It was Peeves. He took one look at them and let out a squeal of delight.

"Shut up, Peeves!" Emma hissed. "Please! You're going to get us into trouble."

"Ickle Firsties out of bed! Tut, tut, tut! Should tell Filch, I should!"

"Get out of the way," Ron hissed, taking a swipe at Peeves. This, as it turned out, wasn't his brightest idea.

"STUDENTS OUT OF BED! STUDENTS IN THE CHARMS CORRIDOR!" Peeves bellowed. The group sprinted away yet again, turning a corner and then another. They were about to turn a third when all of a sudden, they were jerked into another room.

"What do we have here, Freddie?" came a familiar voice through the dark.

"Why, it's a group of first years, Georgie!" came a reply. They were all silent as footsteps approached… and then departed down the corridor. Emma breathed a sigh of relief, letting her eyes shut momentarily.

" _Lumos_." The tip of Fred's wand lit up, illuminating the small class room they were in.

"My, my," Fred said. "Looks like our brother is a little trouble maker after all."

"We should tell mum," George agreed, looking impressed.

"You wouldn't," Ron said, looking scared.

Emma walked over to a nearby desk and sat down, adrenaline pumping through her. She couldn't believe they were safe.

"Maybe we would," Fred said, his eyes glittering with mischief.

"Anyhoo, Filch is gone. Time for the ickle firsties to leave," George said, ushering them out the door. "We have things to do."

He shut it with a snap behind them, leaving the four stranded in the hallway. They began to walk, trying to be as quiet as possible.

"Through here," Emma whispered as they made it to the third floor. She brought them to a heavy wooden door. "I remember Fred saying there was a passage through here."

"When were you talking with Fred?" Ron asked.

"Does it matter, Ronald?" Emma sighed, pulling at the handle. "Hang on… it's locked. Why is it locked?"

"Let's just go," Ron said, turning, but Emma stayed put.

"Don't you want to know why it's locked?" she asked.

"Haven't we had enough adventure for one night?" Ron groaned, but Emma had already whipped out her wand and whispered " _Alohomora_!"

The door swung open and Emma took a cautious step in, Ron close to follow. Neville and Hermione came in reluctantly. The door shut behind them ominously, causing the four to jump.

" _Lumos_ ," Emma whispered. The tip of her wand flared up, illuminating the room. Emma immediately regretted dragging them all into this room. Because, it wasn't just a room.

 _The third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds_ , Dumbledore had said. And it was very clear as to why.

They were staring straight into the eyes of a three-headed dog. The _thing_ started to growl, and Emma felt behind her for the door knob, throwing the door open. The four tumbled backwards and slammed the door shut, sprinting at top speed back towards Gryffindor Tower.

Emma slept fitfully that night, plagued with dreams of three-headed dogs and trap doors hiding magical objects.

* * *

September blurred quickly into October in a mix of classes and quidditch. The initial back to school leniency shown by the teachers had disappeared, replaced with an unrelenting amount of work. The three-headed dog and trap door it seemed to be guarding were pushed to the back of Emma and Ron's brain as they tried to cope with their mounds of school work and, in Emma's case, detentions.

Both Malfoy and Hermione took to glaring daggers at Emma and Ron every chance they got. Malfoy had also taken to hexing Emma in the hallways, or at least attempting to. She had gotten very good at shields as well as jinxes. This, however, earned her more detentions, though true to her word, they were never with Snape ("You said I couldn't get detentions with _Snape_ , professor. You never said anything about detentions with _you_!").

The biggest surprise came at breakfast when a slim, brown paper package arrived for Emma by five owls. She and Ron tore it open as soon as the owls left, smiling gleefully at the looks of pure distaste on Malfoy nad Hermione's face at the sight of the shining broom inside the packaging.

Quidditch practices were grueling, but Emma soon realized there was nothing she'd rather be doing, even if it did mean getting very little sleep. Her nights were usually full of Quidditch, homework, and detentions and each morning she was up early to go for a run.

"You're already doing quidditch, do you really have to run too?" Ron asked exasperatedly one day as Emma came into the great hall late for the fifth morning in a row.

"I have to keep my stamina up for quidditch," Emma argued. "Plus it's fun."

Classes were also exhausting, but a great deal less fun then quidditch. Now that they had mastered the basics, the teachers had started to teach them harder and harder things which meant more and more homework. The only bright side was that Emma was exempt from flying classes meaning she had two free periods a week.

"Thank Merlin we have this afternoon off," Ron grumbled to Emma as they made their way to charms on Halloween morning. "I don't think I could stand another double transfiguration."

"McGonagall has been working us nonstop," Dean groaned as he and Seamus joined their group.

"At least Flitwick is easy on us," Seamus agreed.

"He is not," Lavender said.

"Yeah, he is," Seamus argued.

Emma rolled her eyes. Those two could argue about everything until their faces turned blue. "Come on guys, we're going to be late to charms."

Professor Flitwick surprised the entire class when they entered by announcing that they would be, for the first time, actually practicing the Levitation charm instead of just learning the theory behind it.

"Can you believe it!" Ron whispered to Emma from where they sat towards the back of the classroom. "We're actually going to levitate things."

"Now then," Flitwick squeaked, waiting for the excited buzz to leave the classroom. "As for partners today, I will be assigning them based on people you tend not to work with. Lavender Brown, you will be with Millicent Bulstrode. Emma Potter, you will be with Daphne Greengrass. Draco Malfoy, you will be with Neville Longbottom. Gregory Goyle, with Pansy Parkinson. Hermione Granger, with Ron Weasley…" Flitwick continued to list off pairs as Emma heard Ron groan next to her.

"How come I'm with Granger?" he whined. "She hasn't talked to either of us since the broom incident."

"I didn't even know Daphne Greengrass exists," Emma said, looking around the classroom. "Which one is she?"

"I'm not sure," Ron said. "But I recognize the name. The Greengrasses are an ancient family. Old money, I think."

"Oh goody," Emma groaned. "I get stuck with the nob of a Slytherin. At least Granger isn't a stuck-up rich girl."

"Alright!" Flitwick squeaked. "Go find your partner!"

Ron groaned and left to go find Hermione as Emma walked down a few steps towards the center of the room.

"Emma Potter, right?" a girl with blond hair and bright blue eyes said. She was petit but in a pretty, impish sort of way.

"Daphne Greengrass, I assume," Emma said. She had never seen Daphne before with any of the other Slytherins.

She must've said it a loud because Daphne said, "I normally keep to myself. I don't really like to associate with people who think they're better than everyone else."

Emma was taken aback. That was probably the most un-Slytherin thing someone could say. "Ms. Greengrass, Ms. Potter, please find your seats," Flitwick squeaked.

Emma and Daphne took their seats in the back of the room and pulled out their wands.

"Do you want to go first?" Emma asked, playing with her wand.

"Alright," Daphne said, pointing her wand at the feather Flitwick gave them. " _Wingardium Leviosa_." The feather fidgeted slightly but didn't move.

"I'm bloody awful at charms," Daphne confessed, her shoulders dropping. "I'm much better at Transfiguration."

"I'm the complete opposite," Emma laughed. "Then again, that might have something to do with me always goofing off in McGonagall's class."

"But she loves you," Daphne protested. "It's almost as f you can goof off as much as you want and she'll still like you."

"I find that hard to believe," Emma scoffed.

"Well she does," Daphne insisted. "I'm always so jealous 'cause I wish I had a teacher who liked me."

"I thought Snape liked all the Slytherins," Emma said.

"He likes all the Slytherins who favor dark magic and You-Know-Who over common sense," Daphne scoffed. "So every Slytherin but me."

"What d'you mean?" Emma asked.

"I'm the only Slytherin in the entire house who's family isn't dark," Daphne said. "My parents were on the opposite side of the war. It kinda makes my entire house hates me, Snape included. Leads to a pretty great time at Hogwarts."

"That's rubbish," Emma said. "I knew the Slytherins were jerks… are jerks… but I thought they'd at least protect their own."

"They protect their blood purest and elitist. It doesn't matter if my blood is as pure as it gets- not that I care. If I could, I'd have some Muggle blood in me so at least I wouldn't be in Slytherin."

"You could- I mean, if you want, you could always hang out with me and my friends," Emma offered. "I know it's kind of weird, but I'm kinda used to Slytherins hating me right now, and it's got to be better than hanging out with them."

Daphne smiled slightly. "That would be nice. But… won't your friends not like having a Slytherin hanging out with you."

"They'll be fine with it, don't worry," Emma said.

"Ms. Greengrass, Ms. Potter, a little less talking and a little more doing!"

"Why don't you try," Daphne said to Emma. Emma grasped her wand and stared down at the feather. She tried to imagine her magic traveling through her, through her hand and into her wand.

" _Wingardium Leviosa_ ," she muttered. The feather rose off the table to the astonishment of Emma and into the air.

"Well done!" Flitwick called up to them. "Everyone, Miss Potter has done it! 10 points to Gryffindor!"

Emma beamed, and her expression only got bigger when she saw how Hermione was glaring daggers at her. Honestly, that girl had to give it up. She couldn't stay mad at them forever.

Emma left class that day with a feeling of elation. Other than Hermione, she was the only one who got her feather to levitate, meaning that she had no homework. And, they were about to go to one of the greatest feasts, according to all of the older kids. Plus, everyone excepted Daphne into their group with open arms and only a few comments at first about how she was a Slytherin.

Overall, it had been a pretty good day. But it all went down hill pretty fast.

"So what's Slytherin like, Daphne?" Lavender asked as Emma, Pavarti, Lavender, Daphne, Ron, Seamus, Dean, and Neville made their way down to the Great Hall for the feast.

"Kinda awful," Daphne said. "I pretty much spend all my time in the Library to avoid it and-"

"Emma!" came Angelina Johnson's, one of the chasers on the quidditch team, voice.

Emma spun around to find Angelina, Alicia, and Katie all hurrying towards her.

"What's up?" she asked, confused as to why their faces all look so glum. "Wait… no, Oliver wouldn't-"

"He would," Katie said sullenly.

"But the feast!" Emma protested.

"What's going on?" Pavarti asked, looking between the four girls.

"Oliver scheduled quidditch practice," Katie explained.

"You've got to be _kidding_ me!" Emma said. "I was _so_ looking forward to the feast."

"Weren't we all," Alicia said. "Now come on, your the last girl left. Oliver is out somewhere getting the twins and we're all supposed to meet on the pitch."

Emma groned but followed the three older girls, leaving the amazing smells of the Great Hall behind.

"Remind me again why I agreed to be on the quidditch team," Emma asked once they got to the pitch and began to change.

"Pretty sure it was so you wouldn't get in trouble," Fred Weasley said jokingly as the boys joined them.

Immediately, all the girls began to yell at Wood who looked slightly taken aback.

"Calm down!" he shouted at them. "We won't be out fo the full feast. We may be able to make the end if you all get into your robes and get on the pitch!"

With a great deal of grumbling, they made their way onto the pitch and endured Woods two hour practice, practically sprinting to change when it was finally over.

The four girls practically jumped out of their clothes and bounded into the shower, rinsing off really quickly and cleaning their hair before wrapping in a towel and running out to change… except their clothes weren't there.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Alicia hollered.

"Fred and George!" Angelina screamed, looking practically purple in her anger.

"I'm going to bloody kill them!" Emma joined in the yelling. Her stomach was grumbling, and the thought of the feast was on her mind.

The four girls hurried out of the locker room, red towels wrapped tightly around them. The brisk October wind was cold as they practically ran to the castle, not caring if people saw them in their towels.

"Those absolute buffoons have it coming to them," Katie said as they stormed inside.

The Great Hall was deserted, much to the disappointment of the girls who wanted to be there for the feast. They began to make their way towards Gryffindor Tower when Emma spotted Ron hurrying off in a different direction. He looked incredibly worried.

"I'll um… I'll meet you up there, ok?" Emma said.

"Are you crazy? You're practically naked, Emma," Katie said.

"I know, it's just… Well, give Fred and George a good beating for me," Emma said, before hurrying after Ron.

"Ron!" Emma called as she turned a hall towards him. "Are you ok?"

"Emma?" Ron said, turning. "EMMA! Why are you in a towel?"

"Long story, blame your brothers," Emma said. "Why do you look so worried."

Ron paused for a moment, looking slightly ashamed. "I may have said something that made Hermione… well upset, I guess. And now with the troll-"

"The TROLL?" Emma practically shrieked.

"Bloody hell," Ron said. "I forgot you missed the feast. Quirrell came blundering in, shouting about a troll in the Dungeons. We were all on our way back to the dorms when I remembered about Hermione and I came down here and- Oh God, what's that smell?"

"Fuck!" Emma whispered, yanking Ron behind a wall. A great, big troll was lumbering its way down the hall.

"Bollocks," Ron whispered. "Quirrell wasn't lying!"

"You thought he was?" Emma said, quirking an eyebrow. "And you still came after the girl you claim to hate."

"Get that smirk off your face," Ron said. "I still don't like her, but I wasn't leaving her as troll bait. Now come on."

The three continued to creep down the hallway, Emma yanking the towel tighter around her. She was going to _murder_ the Weasley twins when she got back up there. Plus her hair was dripping down her back, making splattering noises on the floor.

"Shhhh!" Ron whispered, pulling her behind a suit of armor.

"I'm sorry my hair is inconveniencing you," Emma whispered back.

"No. Quirrell!" Ron hissed.

Emma blanched and peaked around the suit, watching as Quirrell scurried down the hallway.

"He's heading for the third floor," she whispered, confused.

"Doesn't matter," Ron said, starting to walk again.

By the time they reached the hallway where the bathroom was, the smell was back.

"Where is it?" Ron asked. But the answer came soon after as a scream ripped through the otherwise silent hall.

"Hermione!" Ron and Emma both yelled, running towards the girl's bathroom.

They threw open the door to find a scared looking Hermione staring up at the troll from before, screaming her head off.

"HERMIONE!" Ron shouted. "GET OUT OF THE WAY!" But Hermione was paralyzed in place. Her face was white with shock.

"Emma, you're the smart one! Don't you know a spell or something?" Ron said frantically.

"To get rid of trolls?" Emma asked incredulously. "Plus, my wand is with my clothes which are currently with your brothers, so that's not going to happen any time soon. Now distract it while I go help Hermione!"

Emma ran towards the cowering girl as Ron shouted, "Oi! Peabrain!" The troll turned towards him as Emma reached Hermione and grabbed the girl, yanking her into one of the abandoned stalls.

"Stay here and give me your wand," she whispered to Hermione, who was so shocked that she obliged.

Emma emerged, shutting the stall door behind her and instructing Hermione to lock it. Ron was staring at the troll, shouting insults at it.

"Bombarda!" Emma shouted, pointing her wand at the troll. The spell hit its target, but all it did was cause the troll to roar in anger and turn toward Emma. She hefted Hermione's wand and began to shout out spells, each one hitting and each one only making the troll more and more mad. Eventually, it began to lumber towards her, but she slid under its legs and ended up on the other side.

"Wingardium Leviosa!" Ron shouted, pointing his wand at the troll. Its club flew up in the air, causing the troll to look confused, before it dropped straight down and landed with a loud _crack_ on the trolls head. The great, grey thing lumbered backwards and fell straight down, taking out a row of sinks out.

Silence followed, as Emma and Ron slowly inched forward, staring at the troll. "Petrificus totalus," Emma whispered, pointing Hermione's wand at it. Its legs straightened out and became stiff.

"Couldn't have done that before," Ron panted.

"Didn't think of it," Emma said, hoisting her towel up. "It's alright, Hermione, you can come out now!"

The bushy haired girl emerged from the stall, still shaking. Emma tossed her her wand which she scrambled to catch.

"Is it… is it dead?" Hermione whispered, tiptoeing around the troll.

"Nah," Emma said blatantly. "Ron knocked it out and then I petrified it just in case. Not sure how long it will hold for, though. We better-"

The bathroom door burst open, and all three first years jumped a foot into the air. McGonagall came sprinting in, her green robes billowing out behind her. Snape was hot on her heels with Quirrell bringing up the rear. They all stopped short when they saw the three kids standing in front of them. Emma could only imagine what they looked like to them. Ron with his robes torn slightly and his wand hefted like a mad man, Hermione with her hair twice the size it usually was, a thin layer of white dust covering her entire body, and then Emma, wrapped in a red and gold towel with her hair dripping wet.

"Hullo there, Professors," Emma said, keeping her voice light. "Fancy seeing you here."


	7. Chapter 6

**Hey guys! I'm so so so happy to be back. Sorry for the long wait. I broke my hand about two weeks ago so today was the first day I was able to type again. As such, the chapter is a little rushed, but I really wanted to get you guys one asap! Updates may be a little wonky for a bit, but I'm hoping to get back onto a solid schedule soon.**

 **As for plans regarding this story, as you'll see in this chapter, I really want to develop a relationship between Fred and Emma as well as George and Emma. From the way I've been writing her, I feel like Emma is very similar to the twins and I really think I can form a great relationship between them. I also want to start looking at the relationship between Emma and Daphne. I like the idea of Emma taking in "strays" I guess you could say because she was always on the outside before coming to Hogwarts. Plotwise, I'm going to stick closely to the books but put my own spin on it and hopefully be able to add more personalized chapters once I continue to develop Emma as a character. As always, if you have any suggestions for this story regarding plot, characters, or even just mistakes I've made (in case you haven't noticed, I'm not from England/Europe at all, I'm from America, and a lot of times I may mistake words native to this region), please feel free to review!**

 **Lastly, I just want to express my gratitude to everyone reading this story I was looking the other day at the stats, and people from 42 different countries have already read this story. To a 15-year-old from America who's only ever been out of the country once, this is so amazing. And to those who have reviewed, thank you so much for your input and encouragement. It really means the world to me.**

 **Sorry for the extra long authors note today. I guess being gone for two weeks really gives a girl time to think. If you've made it this far, wow dedication. Thanks, guys. And enjoy the chapter!**

 **Chapter 6- Quidditch**

"Miss Potter! Mr. Weasley! Miss Granger! What the devil are you three doing?" McGonagall practically screeched. "And Miss Potter, why are you in a towel!"

"Well, I needed a shower, professor, and after a shower you-"

"Miss Potter!"

"I think, Professor McGonagall, that we have bigger problems to worry about than Miss Potter's… situation," Snape said, glancing at Emma who smirked.

"I-I-I think-k-k-k that may-maybe they should-d-d-d expl-" the troll sniffed loudly in its sleep, causing Quirrell to scream.

"It's my fault professor I-" Hermione started, but Ron cut in saying, "No, it was my fault because-" but Emma stopped them saying, "It was me professor I just-"

"That's enough!" McGonagall yelled, holding up a hand. "You are all in my house, and as such I expect you to behave and follow the rules! When you are told to get back to your common room, you get back to your common room!"

"In my defense, Professor, I wasn't at the feast, so I-"

"Miss Potter, you currently have no defense. All three of you, no matter the circumstances, disobeyed direct orders and put yourself in extreme danger. Ten points from Gryffindor, each."

Hermione looked crestfallen, but Emma had gotten much worse. Ron, for his part, sent a comforting glance at Hermione.

"Now, that being said. Not many first years could take on a fully grown mountain troll and live to tell the tale. 50 points to Gryffindor, for your sheer dumb luck. Now, get up to your common rooms. I do believe that the kitchens sent some food up for each house." Grinning from ear to ear, the three first years began to leave the bathroom, ignoring the glares from Snape. "Oh, and Miss Potter," McGonagall added, a glint in her eye. "Go put some clothes on."

"Anything for you, Minny," Emma said with a wink. And McGonagall couldn't help but be reminded of a certain first year with messy black hair and glasses who got into just as much trouble as his daughter now did.

The three hurried out of the bathroom and down the corridors before any of the professors could change their mind about punishment.

"Thank you," Hermione said, as they reached Gryffindor tower. "I mean… just, thank you. It's really nice that you came back for me. I know you don't really like me but-"

"Hermione," Emma said, a smile on her lips as she put an arm around the other girl. "Shut up."

The three burst out laughing. They took a few moments to compose themselves before walking into the crowded common room. Emma's eyes set onto the Weasley twins, laughing in a group with Lee Jordan, Angelina, Alicia, and Katie.

Emma pulled out her wand and whispered "Evanesco," pointing it at both the twins.

Instantly, both twins were sitting in only their underwear, causing almost the entire common room to burst out laughing. Smirking, Emma made her way towards the stairs, sending a smile towards the bewildered Weasleys whose faces just turned more shocked as she walked past.

As the weather started to get colder, and November came in full force, a nervous buzz began to fill the air of Hogwarts. Quidditch season had begun. Saturday would be the first match, Gryffindor against Slytherin, and the entire school was waiting with bated breath for the match to come.

Emma had taken up permanent residence on a couch in the common room. Between classes and practice, Emma barely slept. She was doing homework until the early hours of the morning. As soon as she put the last period on her parchment, she would pass out where she was. She had made the couch into a sort of makeshift bed, with her Gryffindor quilt and a pillow or two. But mostly it was books and parchment piled here and there.

On top of classes and Quidditch, Emma also had to deal with detentions almost every night. Since the clothes incident with the twins, a mini prank war had sprung up. It started with the twins waking Emma up early one Saturday morning by a bucket of ice water being dumped on her head. A few days later, Emma found a charm that made the twins speak only in rhyme. Emma's hair turned an ugly shade of green one day, and soon later, the twins were stuck in pink, frilly dresses. On and on the pranks went, earning all three of them plenty of detentions.

Friday, after one particularly long night of Quidditch and detention (she had stuck "jinx me" signs on the back of the twin's robes), Emma found herself collapsing on her couch-bed once more. The usual roar of the common room greeted the three as they pushed the portrait hole open, joking and pushing each other on the way.

"Same time tomorrow, boys?" Emma said lightly as she broke apart from the twins.

"You're on," Fred said, sending her a cheeky smile before he and George went to find Lee.

Emma plopped down on her couch next to where Hermione and Ron were working on an essay.

"No you can't just copy my answers, Ron," Hermione scolded, swatting his hand away. The three of them had been pretty much inseparable ever since Halloween, and Hermione fit easily into their mismatch group of Gryffindors and a Slytherin. It came as almost a relief to Emma that there was one less person at Hogwarts who hated her.

"But you make your essay sound so good and mines complete rubbish," Ron whined.

"How will you _learn_ if you don't practice," Hermione said.

"I don't need to- Emma! Great, I need to talk to you," Ron said hurriedly when he saw her.

"What's up," Emma said, pulling out her Transfiguration book and some spare parchment.

"I ran into Snape earlier-"

"That's a shame."

"-and he and Filch were talking-"

"Who would talk to that scumbag voluntarily? Only another scumbag it seems."

"-and there was a giant gash down his leg-"

"That just made my entire night."

"-oh will you shut up for two seconds!" Ron said exasperatedly, causing Hermione and Emma to both start laughing. "Both of you, shut it! Snape said right after, 'How are you supposed to keep an eye on all three heads at once?'?"

The laughing ended abruptly at that.

"He-he-Snape-"

"He tried to get past that dog on Halloween," Ron finished grimly.

"He must be after whatever that dog is guarding," Emma continued. " _And_ he probably let that troll in on Halloween. That _bastard_!"

"Emma!" Hermione scolded, as always very abashed by her friend's mouth.

"I speak only the truth," Emma said innocently.

"Back to the problem here," Ron said, "what are we going to do about Snape?"

"It can't be him," Hermione said reasonably. "Snape wouldn't do that. He may not be nice, but he's still a teacher. He wouldn't break the rules like that."

"Honestly, Hermione, not all teachers are saints," Ron groaned.

"That's not true!" Hermione protested. "I just don't believe that Snape would try to steal whatever Dumbledore's hiding!"

"But what _is_ he hiding?" Emma said.

It turned out that that would be a discussion for another night, because as soon as she said that, Oliver Wood stood up from the corner where he had been hunched over a miniature Quidditch pitch and shouted, "Spinnet! Weasleys! Johnson! Bell! Potter! Bed, now!"

Saturday morning dawned bright and cold. A heavy breeze was whipping the trees into a frenzy and frost covered the ground.

Emma was woken up by the ever so gentle feeling of Fred Weasley sitting on top of her.

"You twerp!" Emma screamed, struggling to sit up under the older boys weight.

"Morning sunshine!" Fred said lightly, standing up. Emma whipped a pillow at him, which he caught easily and tossed back at her. "You're cute when you're angry."

"Wanna see how cute I am when I shove your head up your bloody arse!" Emma cried.

"Someone's not a morning person," Angelina said, coming down the staircase, already clad in her leggings and a red tank top that all the girls wear under their Quidditch robes.

"I need coffee," Emma groaned, rolling off the couch and landing with a thump on the floor. She rolled over and saw half the Gryffindor team standing above her. Her stomach dropped suddenly. It was Saturday, which meant Quidditch. An unfamiliar feeling of dread filled Emma's stomach. Something was going to go wrong, she could feel it. But the smiling faces of her peers calmed her slightly as she stood up and went to change.

Ten minutes later, Emma found herself squished between Angelina and Alicia in the Great Hall, a pile of untouched food on her plate and a cup of coffee in her hands.

"You gotta eat something, Em," Angelina said soothingly, taking a bite out of her own toast. But Emma's stomach was churning and all she managed was another sip from her coffee.

"Yeah, you need your strength," Ron said as he and Hermione found their way to the small group. More and more people began to trickle into the hall. Ron and Hermione took seats next to the Gryffindor team, both wearing scarfs and hats with the Gryffindor lion. "Seekers are always the ones to get clobbered by the other team."

"Ron!" Hermione chastised as Katie smacked him.

"How comforting, Ron," Emma groaned. Her stomach just dropped lower and lower as the time drew closer to eleven. When Wood stood up and told the team to get to the pitch, Emma was sure she would throw up from nervousness.

They all changed into their scarlet robes and sat down, Angelina braiding all of the girl's hair tightly to avoid it getting in their faces. Wood stood in front of them all, his hands clasped tightly behind his back.

"Alright men," Wood began, his voice tight.

"And women," Angelina put in, yanking Emma's hair tightly and causing the younger girl to cry out. Emma reached behind and hit the other girl lightly on her shoulder, causing Angelina to chastise her for moving.

"And women," Wood added, ignoring Emma and Angelina's antics. "This is it."

"The big one," George said in an almost perfect imitation of Wood's voice.

"The one we've all been waiting for!" Fred added in the same voice, sending a wink to Emma who rolled her eyes.

"Shut up, you two," Wood said. "This is the best team Gryffindor has had in years. We've been practicing hard and in every type of weather-"

"Oh trust us, we know," Emma said.

"We have the frostbite to prove it," Fred added lightly.

"We're going to win," Wood said, sending a glare to Fred and Emma. "I know it."

He didn't say _or else_ , but everyone heard it in the undertone of his voice.

"Right, it's time," Wood said. "Good luck, all of you."

Emma followed Fred and George out of the locker room, praying that her legs weren't going to give out.

"You alright?" Fred whispered to her as they reached the grass of the pitch.

"Mhm," Emma said weakly.

"You sure?" Fred said, obviously not convinced.

"It just feels like… like somethings going to go wrong," Emma said.

"Everyone gets nervous before their first match," Fred said. "I passed out before mine from complete nerves. Charlie, my older brother, had to revive me."

Emma managed a weak smile, but her legs were still shaking underneath her.

"Seriously, it'll be ok," Fred said. He reached out and took her hand, and, surprisingly, Emma didn't pull away. She felt slightly more anchored, the shaking stopping, but her stomach still felt like she left it in the locker rooms.

"Captains, shake hands!" Madam Hooch called once both teams made it to the middle of the field. Wood stepped up and grasped hands with Slytherin captain, Marcus Flint. It looked like both of them were trying to crush the other's hand. "Now, I want a nice fair game. From all of you." Hooch's eyes drifted from the Slytherins over to the Gryffindors as if daring them to misbehave.

"Mount your brooms!" Hooch called, sticking her whistle between her teeth. Fred gave Emma's hand a small squeeze before letting go, allowing them both to clamber onto their brooms. Emma looked around the crowd, and couldn't help but feel a smile on her face at the sight of the other Gryffindor first years seated in the stands brandishing a sign that read "Potter for President". She had to remember to thank Dean for the drawing later. He was the only one or the nine of them that had any artistic ability.

"Three! Two! One!" Hooch blasted on her whistle and all of them kicked off from the ground and soared into the air.

"And the Quaffle is taken immediately by Angelina Johnson of Gryffindor," came Lee Jordan's voice. Emma remembered Lee mentioning that he commentated the Quidditch matches. "What an excellent Chaser that girl is, and rather pretty too."

"Jordan!" came McGonagall's shout, and Emma couldn't help but snort.

"Sorry, Professor," Lee said, sounding anything but sorry.

Emma soared through the air, scanning the field for a tiny speck of gold. Below her, the game played out in a blur of soaring brooms and flying balls. The other seeker seemed to be by the Slytherin goal, allowing Emma to soar around on her own, lending one ear to the commentary while searching for the snitch.

"A neat pass to Alicia Spinnet, a good friend of Oliver Wood's, last year only a reserve, back to Johnson and- no, the Slytherins have taken the Quaffle, Flint flying like an eagle up there-"

Emma's eyes caught onto a glimmer of gold and she turned- but it ended up only being Fred's watch. She slowly made her way in circles above the field, scanning for anything that could be the snitch.

"GRYFFINDOR SCORES!" came Lee's voice. Cheers roared up from the crowd, and Emma's heart soared. Emma did a few loops to let off her energy before going back to her careful laps, following the game plan that she and Wood had come up with.

"Keep out of the way until you see the snitch," Wood had said. "We don't want you attacked before you have to be."

But Emma had never been good at staying out of trouble, something that became obvious as she dodged a bludger that had came pelting at her.

"You alright, Emma?" Fred called as he zoomed past, smacking the bludger furiously towards Marcus Flint.

Emma was about to answer when a flash of gold caught her eye, glittering towards the middle of the field. She flattened herself against her broom, soaring as fast as she could towards the snitch. Everything flew away except her and the snitch as the thrill of the chase set in. She was fifteen feet away. Ten. Five. She reached out her hand, fingers ready to grasp the snitch, when her wrist bent backward, slamming into something solid. Emma cried out, clutching her arm which was pointed at an odd angle.

"You complete and utter bastard!" Emma shouted at Marcus Flint who had a smirk on his face, but he flew away before she could retaliate.

"Foul!" screamed all the Gryffindors. Madam Hooch pulled Flint aside and began to talk to him angrily, but Emma was more preoccupied with her bent hand.

"Emma!" Fred Weasley called, rushing towards her. "Wood! Call a timeout! We need to-"

"I'm fine, Fred," Emma gritted out. "Oliver, keep playing. I can manage."

"No you most certainly cannot," Fred said, stopping at her side. "Are we looking at the same arm right now?"

"Fred, I'm fine!" Emma said. "Honestly, I am. Now get back to the game!" Emma soared away as Angelina put the Quaffle through the goal, making Gryffindor lead 80 to 30.

"So- after that obvious and disgusting bit of cheating-" Lee Jordan began, finding it hard not to take sides.

"Jordan!"

"I mean, after that open and revolting foul-"

" _Jordan, I'm warning you_!"

"All right, all right. Flint harms the Gryffindor Seeker, nearly killing her, which could happen to anyone, I'm sure. But, like the badass she is, Emma Potter keeps playing. So, a penalty to Gryffindor, taken by Johnson, who puts it away no trouble, and we continue play. Gryffindor still in possession."

Emma found herself back at the top of the pitch, circling around it, holding her arm close against her body. As she dodged another bludger, her stomach dropped yet again. She had thought… well, it felt like… no, it couldn't be, but… It happened again. Her broom lurched upwards. It was as if her broom was trying to buck her off. But, the broom was brand new! Emma tried to turn back towards the goal post to talk to Wood, but it was as if she wasn't in control anymore. She couldn't turn it, couldn't direct it at all. It was taking her higher and higher into the air, and every now and then, it would jerk her suddenly.

But no one else seems to have noticed. Lee kept commentating, and the game kept going on. Slytherin scored, then Gryffindor, and still, Emma was taken higher and higher from the game.

Her broom began to roll over and over, and Emma barely held on with her one good hand, gripping it for dear life. Finally, people began to notice her flying away, pointing and muttering. With one violent jerk, Emma flew off her broom, barely managing to wrap one hand around the base. The entire crowd gasped. Lee said something into the microphone, but Emma missed it in her haste to hang on to the broom.

"Hold on, Emma!" Fred Weasley called as he and George zoomed towards her. But as soon as they got close, Emma's broom just brought her father away.

"It's not like I have another option!" Emma called back, her voice laced with fear. She closed her eyes, trying to calm herself. She would be alright. It would be alright.

"Fred?" Emma said, her eyes still shut tight.

"Yes?" came his reply.

"My hand's slipping," she said, as calmly as her voice would let her. "So I'm going to drop, and you're going to catch me."

"I'm sorry, say again?"

"Fred!" Emma said, her voice urgent. "Can you catch me?"

There was a slight pause before his reply. "Always."

Steeling herself, Emma took a deep breath before letting go of the broom. She was suspended in the air for a moment before the feeling of free falling overtook her. It felt like an eternity, but it couldn't have been more than a few moments that she plummeted down- and straight into the waiting arms of Fred.

Emma let out a small cry as her broken wrist jerked upwards, but any pain was pushed aside by her relief to still be alive.

"Told ya I'd catch you," Fred said cheekily. But Emma couldn't reply. She felt like she was going to throw up. Fred lowered her slowly to the ground and the two landed with a slight bump.

Emma rose shakily to her feet before bending over again, heaving.

"Emma?" Fred said worriedly. The rest of the team was still playing high above, working overtime to compensate for the loss of Emma.

Emma coughed once, twice, before something gold fell out of her mouth and landed on the sand.

"Oh Merlin," Fred said from where he was standing above her.

A smile broke over Emma's face as she called out, "I've got the snitch!" and the game ended in complete confusion.

Gryffindors flooded the field as Emma stood up, finally comfortable on solid ground once again. The rest of the team landed amidst cheers, all of them smiling like no tomorrow. Emma found herself begin hugged and patted on the back by half of Gryffindor house. Hermione and Ron found their way towards her and Hermione grabbed onto her, pulling her into a tight hug.

"Let her breath, Hermione!" Ron said, laughing. But Hermione held on for a few more moments before releasing the other girl.

"Oh, Emma, your arm!" Hermione cried. Emma had almost forgotten about her now throbbing arm in the excitement of winning.

"Hospital wing!" George Weasley said as he and Fred emerged behind her.

"I'm alright!" Emma protested, but before she could say another thing, she felt herself being lifted up. "Fred Weasley! Put me down right now!"

Laughing, Fred carried Emma up to the Hospital Wing, Hermione, George, Ron, and the rest of the Gryffindor team trailing behind.


End file.
